


A Fate Worse Than Death [Spells]

by 1_800_FRERARD



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Death Spells Frank, Exes to Lovers, Guaranteed Happy Ending or Your Money Back, M/M, Minor Character Death, Vampire Gerard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 06:57:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 59,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9373184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1_800_FRERARD/pseuds/1_800_FRERARD
Summary: ~“Can I help you find anything?” an employee had asked.Frank just waved them off.“A box I can fit my ex-boyfriend’s body in.” had hardly seemed like an appropriate response.~Or, The story of how Frank Iero became a vampire slayer in the worst possible state to wake up a vampire.A daydream on ‘The Taste Of Ink’ by The Used.





	1. Hollywood Forever

  
  
  
  
  


The last thing Frank’s morning needed was a phone call from his ex. It was like Gerard had a sixth sense for these kinds of things. Frank wasn’t sure why he was even surprised when he pulled his phone out of his pocket to make the buzzing stop and found that Gerard was calling him. 

As if the buzzing in his head wasn’t enough already. There was the jetlag, the lack of caffeine, and the whole fiasco with having to circle back to the hotel twice (first, to get his wallet, and the second time, to get his artist badge). 

Frank bit his lip in thought as he dutifully ignored Gerard’s call, slid his phone back in his pocket, and continued looking for the artist check-in booth. Even if he _ wanted _ to talk to Gerard -  _ which he didn’t _ \- he didn’t have time. He  _ wouldn’t _ have time for the next several days. 

And honestly, it was probably better that way. 

There was no way Gerard knew he was in L.A. They didn’t talk. Hadn’t talked in… a year?  _ Two years?  _ Frank had finally started to lose track. 

The smog-heavy Los Angeles air was already taking its toll on Frank’s lungs. He was starting to get a little wheezy. He was exhausted and overwhelmed by the surrounding crowd. He hated crowds. He tried to look like he had somewhere to be, though he still wasn’t quite sure  _ where _ that was, and kept his face in a neutral, determined sort of scowl to deter anyone brave enough to approach him for an autograph. He hadn’t had enough time to adjust to the new surroundings. He wasn’t ready to mingle and interact and _ meet fans.  _ Not when he was feeling so bitchy. 

A few more moments of frowning into the sea of music festival attendees and Frank somehow spotted the other half of Death Spells carrying two cups of what was hopefully coffee, and not booze. It looked like James was headed in Frank’s direction, too. Frank practically ran for him, forgetting that Gerard had even called him at all. 

~

 

The day progressed slowly. They checked in, got their drink wristbands, and wandered around the vendor tents for a while, picking through the booths of merch and overpriced hotdogs that Frank couldn’t eat anyways. 

Frank had always hated the waiting part. 

They’d gotten a pretty good slot. Death Spells was due to play the mainstage at 7:30pm sharp.  A friend of theirs was taking pictures for the band website, and since the sun would be setting around then, the light would be perfect. 

7:30 also meant the crowd would be drunk enough to not care if they fucked up. But also hopefully drunk enough to still appreciate their set, which was just how Frank liked them. The energy would be perfect. He was practically buzzing with anticipation already as it was. At least, he told himself it was anticipation and not nerves. There was nothing to be nervous about after all. Frank had never played for a crowd so big as the face of Death Spells, but he’d played bigger stages before with his previous bands. Tonight would be _ easy i _ n comparison. 

But of course, 7:30 meant they’d have to wait around longer before they could go on. And  _ God, Frank hated waiting.  _

 

Gerard called again. And again. And, after another hour, _ again. _

With each passing hour, Frank got another call from Gerard. He ignored the first couple of calls easily, hesitating only a little before ignoring the ones that followed. But with nothing pressing to distract him, he found himself checking his phone too often. 

Usually, it wasn’t just Frank and James waiting around like this. Usually they had a whole band with them, plus a road crew. Death Spells was such a different set up. They’d been able to fit all their gear into their suitcases and flown to L.A. No band. No driving. No road crew. 

Frank had sort of wanted to explore the city outside of the festival, but James just wanted to catch the other bands. It was more in-the-spirit of their weekend, so Frank went along with it. It was sort of too hot to mosh, but that had never stopped James before. Frank was sweaty and experiencing his first caffeine crash by 3:00, after a hardcore set from some band James had dragged him into. 

Frank was sort of hoping he might have lost his phone in the pit, but hope wasn’t on his side today, it seemed. When he wandered out of the thinning crowd with Dewees staggering along beside him, he still felt the weight of the small device in his front pocket. He considered losing it more purposefully. He knew that would make things more complicated when the sound techs tried to call them in a few hours. James still had his phone, too, though. Frank watched him pull it out and check a text. Gerard had James’ number, too. They’d all been friends before Frank and Gerard had called it quits. Frank wondered idly if Gerard was bothering James, too, though he couldn’t work up the courage to ask. James glanced up from his phone at Frank and then back down at the screen, cementing Frank’s suspicions that James was somehow involved, or in the process of becoming involved. Before Frank could question it further, James was dragging him to another stage to see another band. 

Frank broke his sunglasses in the pit during the thrash-metal set they caught next. That was how he found himself back at the overpriced merch booths looking for a new pair by early evening. He turned his phone from vibrate to silent so he could ignore the constant buzzing and save battery. But of course, he still felt it buzzing, even when it wasn’t anymore. It was like Gerard was _haunting him._

The sun was getting low on the horizon.  _ Ten missed calls later _ and Frank was honestly starting to worry just a little bit. Gerard didn’t leave any voicemails or texts, which left Frank with no other option than to call him back if he wanted to know what was up. 

Frank knew better, though. He didn’t take the bait.

Maybe Gerard somehow knew he was in L.A. after all. Maybe Gerard had been kidnapped and his kidnapper had made the mistake of thinking Frank cared enough to save him. 

Frank didn’t care, though. He almost had to remind himself of that.  _ Almost.  _

He slid his phone back in his pocket again and headed for the main stage, not wanting to wait any longer for soundcheck. They would just have to be early for once. Rockstar image be damned. 

~ 

 

Before Frank knew it, he was on stage, gripping a microphone as he stared out into a sea of moving bodies. All those anxiety-ridden hours had led up to this. They were all waiting for him to say something, to set the pace, and he wasn’t about to disappoint. The techs killed the overhead lighting so it was just him and James, with the last rays of sunlight on the horizon. A faint blood red lighting spilled out of the lights at Frank’s feet. 

The air was so still. There wasn’t even the faintest breeze. Frank felt himself start to suffocate on the stillness. He looked back at James to make sure he was ready. If they didn’t start  _ now _ , he might lose it. James’ face was illuminated by his computer screen. He smirked back at Frank, which was all the reassurance Frank needed. 

“ _ What the fuck is up, L.A.?” _ Frank asked into the microphone, losing himself in the bassline that started to pump out of the amps behind him. 

Playing had always been an out of body experience. Frank could barely focus on the words he was supposed to be screaming. He wasn’t sure if he was getting them right or not. It didn’t seem to matter too much. The crowd was pulsing along with the beat. He leaned over into the swarming bodies and grabbed someone’s hand, staring into their eyes as they sang in unison. This alone was why Frank had braved the bustling airports and the smog and the shitty hotel rooms: For once in what felt like forever, Frank forgot himself. For ten seconds it was like he didn’t matter at all. Nothing mattered at all. His body was just a vessel, a short phrase in a lengthy equation he’d never been able to decipher. He was a tiny piece of something so much bigger than himself and the reminder was all-encompassing,  _ humbling, numbing.   _

He usually didn’t get so philosophical when he was crowd-surfing. Someone was tugging at the mic now, and Frank let them. Gerard was still on his mind. When it came to stuff like this Gerard had always made him feel like an accomplished artist, where most people made him feel like a drop-out punk with no future. Gerard had seen things in him that other people couldn’t. Gerard was good at doing that for other people, even if he couldn’t do it for himself. 

Regaining control of the mic, fishing it out of the faces below him, Frank paused before he spoke. 

“L.A…” he sighed, wiping his forehead off on the back of his arm as he paced to the other end of the stage, “It’s good to know you can still put up a-” 

Frank’s breath was pulled from him, then. 

He wasn’t sure how he spotted Gerard among the hundreds of people before him, but he had no doubt it was Gerard, about twenty feet back, lodged between a group of hardcore bros. In the brief moment of clarity, Frank drank him in. His hair had gotten longer, though he was still keeping it black. He looked paler than pale. His eyes seemed crueler, somehow. Maybe that was Frank’s imagination, or maybe Gerard had always looked mean. He disappeared among the moving bodies once again and Frank darted his eyes to another part of the crowd. 

“It’s good to know you can still put up a  _ fucking fight. _ ” Frank growled, though now he wasn’t sure who he was talking to.    
He heard Dewees queue the next song and shut his eyes. This could wait. Gerard could wait one more song, especially if he was so intent on ruining Frank’s day. Frank would make him fucking wait for it.  

Frank dropped to his knees and gave it his everything. Music festivals kept tight set times. There’d be no room for an encore. Not if Frank wanted to escape totally pissing off the booking agent. Frank would have to make this memorable somehow. 

It was still so strange to play sets without a guitar in his hands. Frank felt off-balance without an instrument strapped around his neck. And when it came down to it, there was nothing to fucking  **smash** . All their gear was too expensive and intricate to break. He’d never hear the end of it from James if he broke anything. 

So instead Frank opted to break himself. He ended up in the crowd, making a point to avoid the spot where he’d seen Gerard a few moments before. He could feel himself bumping into people as he dove into the pit, abandoning the mic entirely. He felt his body smack against the stage as he let the rhythm of the pit take him. Hands were pushing and pulling as the end of the song took its course, and again, Frank could just forget himself and absorb the incredible energy radiating off of the crowd. He’d suck them dry. Every last fucking drop.   

Eventually someone lifted him up. It was a member of security, Frank realized, and they didn’t look happy. 

Frank flung himself at James as soon as he was back on the stage, leaning over so he could speak into James’ microphone. He wasn’t sure what the fuck had happened to his mic, but at this point he didn’t fucking care.

“Thanks everyone.” He grinned, breathless, “See you again  _ real soon. _ ” 

The crowd was still cheering as they walked off stage. Sound techs were buzzing all around them to pull all the equipment away in time to make room for the next performing artists. 

Usually this was the part where Frank could let himself chill out. It would be a little while before his adrenaline crashed. If Frank played his cards right, they could go out for some drinks before he insisted on going back to their hotel to sleep. When had he gotten too old for this? 

Normally he’d have to pace around a while before it would wear off. He wasn’t like James, who had already found the free beer and chugged one down. Frank would  _ love _ to mellow out as quickly as James could, but he couldn’t even accept the can James tried to passed him. Chunks of ice were slipping off the sides, fresh out of the cooler. Which meant it was ice cold. His throat was dry and abused from the screaming, and he could feel the sweat still running down the sides of his face, but he couldn’t lift his hand to reach for the can.

“What’s up?” James asked, eyeing Frank, “You fucking killed it out there just now. What the fuck could  _ possibly _ be up right now?” 

“Gerard’s here.” Frank said.

James cracked Frank’s beer for him and tried to pass it again. Frank just sighed heavily and stared down at the can. 

“What do you mean he’s  _ ‘here’?” _ James asked, taking a slurp off Frank’s beer to keep the gurgling foam from spilling over. He glanced around, furrowing his brow when he didn’t see Frank’s ex anywhere.

“Not  _ here  _ here.” Frank explained, “But I saw him. In the crowd.” 

“Oh.  _ Sick. _ Did he seem  _ into it? _ ” James asked curiously, “I mean, this is _ a lot  _ different than your last band. Does he even _ like  _ screamy stuff?” 

“I don’t care if he was into it. I just want him to leave me the fuck alone.” Frank said bitterly, pinching the bridge of his nose.  

“In his defense, doesn’t he kinda… _ live here. _ ” James pointed out. 

“It’s a big city, he should have no problem keeping his distance.” Frank shrugged.

James frowned thoughtfully.

“So you’re saying you had nothing to do with this?” Frank asked skeptically, “At all?” 

“Why would I have something to do with it?” James defended. 

“He didn’t call you?” Frank pressed, “Not even once?”  

“...Listen, Frankie,” James sighed, “I’ve been trying to find us an after-party. I spent all day texting every babe I know in the  _ entire fucking city _ . Which isn’t very many, honestly, but probably way more than _ you _ know. When would I have had time to text your boyfriend?” 

“He’s not my boyfriend.” Frank corrected crossly, “And I don’t know? He’s been calling me all day… And I’ve been ignoring him. I just figured he would’ve involved you by now?” 

James bit his lip as he considered Frank for a moment. He set both of the beer cans down on the withered grass before he spoke; a gesture reserved for only their more serious conversations. 

“Listen Frankie, ” He started, placing a hand on Frank’s shoulder, “I love Gerard as much as the next guy, but we kinda talked about this before we left... You needed a change of pace. Gerard is _not_ a change of pace.”

Frank nodded weakly in agreement.

“And we only have a few days in L.A.” James added, “And you just started off the weekend with a fucking  _ killer set _ . So like, do you really wanna let him get in your way right now?” 

“Well…” Frank mused, “ _ No... _ I don’t.” 

“That’s what I thought.” James said, “It’s not every weekend we’re here, dude. None of this is going to matter in a week when we’re like, twenty seven hundred miles away or whatever. So  _ forget about him. _ ” 

“I _ can’t. _ He’s been calling me all day. Like, literally _ all day, _ James. No voicemails. No texts.” Frank said, “Something’s up. Something  _ has to be _ up.” 

“Well, let’s make a battle plan then.” James offered,  **“** If you can’t ignore him, **I’ll** go find a party for us to crash.  **You** go find out what  _ the hell  _ he wants, besides the obvious, and then come to me, with or without him. Everyone wins. No one goes home alone.”

“But I don’t  _ want to  _ find out what he wants.” Frank groaned, ignoring James’ insinuations, “And I  _ can _ ignore him.” 

“You can’t fucking lie about that  _ now _ .” James laughed, “If you weren’t at least a little curious, you’d be drinking the beer I just tried to hand you. But you know what? I think you need to go deal with this now, anyways. Cause if you don’t deal with it now, I know exactly what’ll happen.” 

He leaned down to pick up their beer cans and tried one last time to pass one to Frank. 

“ _...Fine. _ ” Frank caved, grabbing the beer from his bandmate and taking a gulp. 

He pulled the can away for half a second before bringing it back to his lips and tilting up the bottom. Just because Frank was going to do this didn’t mean he’d have to do it sober.

“Weekends like this don’t happen all the time, Frankie.” James warned, “Don’t let him take up all your time if you don’t want him to.” 

“I won’t.” Frank promised, wiping his mouth off on the back of his hand.  

“So you’ll actually answer your phone later?” James asked, narrowing his eyes. 

“I’ll answer my phone.” Frank nodded, fist-bumping his friend before turning on his heels. He grabbed his backpack and headed for the dispersing crowd beyond the security barrier, beyond the stage, sipping on his beer as he went. He held the can low as he passed a few security members. No reason to flaunt his blatant disregard for the rules. 

He was still pissed Gerard had forced his way into this weekend.  _ Their  _ weekend. This trip was supposed to clear Frank’s head. That’s what James had promised when they’d agreed to play L.A. And now, as Frank wandered through the crowd, it felt as though the opposite was about to happen. 

Because even if Frank didn’t go look for him now, he’d be thinking about Gerard all night, and probably even into tomorrow, and maybe into next week. Those thoughts had a way of growing in his head like some awful, terminal brain cancer. 

Frank wasn’t even sure where to find his ex now though. The sun had set and Frank could barely make out the faces of the people he was hurrying past. 

A slight breeze had picked up. He shivered as it hit his sweat-soaked t-shirt, clinging tightly to his skin. He hadn’t remembered to bring a shirt to change into. He zipped his hoodie up and carried on. He wanted to go back to the hotel and shower off; maybe have a few drinks before dealing with Gerard. Or, maybe just not deal with Gerard altogether. 

With dead grass crunching under his feet, all dried up from the hot summer, Frank dug his phone out of his pocket. He was almost surprised to find he didn’t have any more missed calls. He scrolled through his contacts and called Gerard, not letting himself hesitate any longer. He let out a breath of a laugh as it went straight to voicemail. He tried calling again right away though, ditching his beer can as he passed an overflowing trash can. Voicemail again. 

As Frank prepared himself to leave a voicemail, his phone beeped to let him know he had another call coming in. James was calling him. He gave up on leaving a voicemail and answered James’ call. 

“James, hey.” Frank said, wandering off to the side of the pathway and pressing his phone tight against his ear so he could hear clearly over the din of the crowd. 

“Come back. I found him.” James said. 

Frank let out a deep sigh.

“...Hand him the phone.” Frank requested, “Please.” 

“Sure. Your funeral.” James chuckled. 

There was a rustling sound as James handed his phone over. Frank could hear the faint sounds of people talking in the background. The next band getting ready to set up, maybe? 

“Hey Frankie...” Gerard said fondly, voice familiar and calm. Frank immediately shuddered. 

“Where are you?” Frank asked. 

“Waiting backstage.” Gerard informed casually, “You?” 

“Looking for you.” Frank replied crossly, turning and heading back towards the main stage. The crowd had thickened considerably and Frank had to really focus on maneuvering through the sea of bodies. 

“Oh. Come back.” Gerard said. 

“Why, Gerard?” Frank asked, “What the fuck is going on? This better be fucking good.” 

“I mean, if it’s easier for me to just come to you…” Gerard trailed off. 

Whatever it was, he didn’t want James to hear. Frank realized this and swallowed his frustration. 

“Are you  _ okay? _ ” Frank asked worriedly, bumping into some dude and sloshing his drink. He hurried past to avoid confrontation, darting through the crowd back towards the stage. 

“Well you know I wouldn’t bother you unless I...  _ needed to. _ ” Gerard offered quietly.  _ Cryptically.  _

Frank had already made it back to the checkpoint and flashed his artist badge at the security guard as he walked back behind the fence leading to the stage. 

“Stay there.” Frank sighed, “I’ll be there in a second...” 

Maybe Gerard was dying? That was the first thing that came to Frank’s mind, as he slid his phone back in his pocket. Though that seemed like the kind of thing Gerard could’ve just left a voicemail over. Whatever was going on had to be more urgent than that. Still, Frank couldn’t imagine what Gerard could possibly  _ need _ from him. And he’d definitely used the word ‘need.’ 

He found James almost exactly where he’d left him. Unsurprisingly, he was now accompanied by Frank’s much taller, much less sweaty ex boyfriend. 

James was talking about something, gesturing wildly with the hand he wasn’t holding a beer in. Gerard was smiling at whatever he was saying, but it was a forced sort of smile. Gerard looked uneasy, intensifying all of Frank’s previous concerns that something might be actually really very wrong. 

Frank almost wished he had someone else to talk to back here. Surely he knew more people in L.A. than just Gerard. He would’ve liked to spin the illusion that he had better things to be doing at the moment. As he glanced around in the dim, he didn’t recognize anyone else standing around. 

James quit talking when Gerard caught sight of Frank. 

Their eyes met. Frank immediately swallowed hard. He wasn’t ready for this. He definitely needed another beer. He floated the few more steps towards them and grabbed the beer right out of James’ hand. 

“Hey.” Gerard said, watching Frank take a sip of stolen beer. 

Frank pursed his lips as the heavy liquid sat on his tongue. He was suddenly finding even basic niceties to be too difficult for him. Even a simple  _ ‘Hello’ _ felt like more kindness than Frank could afford where Gerard was concerned. 

They’d left things on a bad note. A  _ really _ bad note. Frank still felt guilty. 

He’d been the one to suggest they see other people while Gerard had been laying in that hospital bed. A dick move, for sure, but it had been good for both of them. That’s what Frank told himself over and over for months after the fact. 

Only, none of that mattered now, because apparently Gerard was dying, or worse. But what could possibly be worse than dying? He looked fine.  _ Good _ , even. Frank could admit he looked good. The last time he’d seen Gerard, the guy had been a mess of alcohol and mystery pills: strung out, partied out, checked out. Or,  _ checked in _ , rather.  

And  _ oh God, Frank was staring. _

“How about I find us some more beer?” James offered, obviously looking for an out. Frank envied him for finding one so easily. 

“Sounds good.” Gerard nodded. 

James was already scurrying off though, insisting that Frank text him later. Frank waited until he was out of earshot to speak:

“How the fuck did you even find me?” Frank blurted out. It wasn’t the question he’d meant to open with, but the questions would have to start somewhere, wouldn’t they? 

“It’s almost like your tour dates aren’t posted on your website.” Gerard offered sarcastically, tucking a loose strand of his long black hair behind his ear. 

Frank’s carefully poised frown broke into a smile. 

Gerard smiled back. It wasn’t forced like the smile he’d been giving James. It was genuine and unguarded. Frank looked away. He had to. Even in the dark he couldn’t stand having Gerard look at him like that. 

“Wait. How did you get backstage?” Frank wondered, recalling the swarm of security he’d just passed. He hadn’t put Gerard’s name on any list. He wouldn’t dare. 

“I  _ always _ get backstage.” Gerard answered. 

And from what Frank remembered of the past, that was true, so he nodded.

Gerard was in all black, save a denim jacket hanging loosely from his shoulders. If it weren’t for the distant lights lining some of the pathways to the different stages and booths in the distance, the darkness might’ve swallowed him up completely. He had his arms crossed protectively across his chest. 

“So… why’re you here?” Frank asked, snapping out of the thorough once-over he’d totally just given his ex,  “What’s going on?” 

“Can we… go somewhere and talk?” Gerard asked, “I hate to pull you away from all of this, but I really need to talk to you. Like,  _ immediately. _ ” 

“Um.” Frank gulped.  

“I know how that  _ sounds _ but if you could just come back to my place, we could-” 

“Your place?” Frank interrupted, “Shit. Aren’t you going to buy me dinner first?” 

“It’s not like that.” Gerard said, shaking his head and letting out a breath of a laugh, “I wish it was that simple…” 

“That’s your idea of _ simple? _ ” Frank laughed, “What could be so bad that you can’t just tell me right here, Gerard? No one’s listening to us, anyways. This is-” 

“ _ Please Frank. _ ” Gerard said, stepping into Frank’s space and staring him down, “I need your  _ help. _ ” 

For a moment, Frank was entranced. He couldn’t remember the last time Gerard had used that look on him. The one that meant he wasn’t fucking around. _ Gerard was standing right in front of him and he wasn’t fucking around.  _ This had to be a terrible nightmare. 

“I need a drink first...” Frank informed, “Can we get a drink, catch up?” 

Gerard bit his lip uneasily as he considered Frank’s offer. 

“Sure.” Gerard agreed, “If that’s what it’ll take. I’d like that.” 

 

James wasn’t coming back to find them anyways, so they left without saying goodbye. Frank stayed close to Gerard as they wove through the crowd. He bumped into Gerard a few times, cringing at the closeness every time, even though he had no control over the way the flow of the crowd kept pushing them towards one another. 

It was funny how two people could declare they’d love each other forever, only to go through a messy breakup resulting in a complete and utter lack of communication. It was funny how declarations of love were just words people said when they were afraid. It was funny how far they’d come from trying to keep the promises they’d made to one another. 

Frank wasn’t afraid anymore. There was nothing left they could say to one another. They’d already tricked each other into loving one another. And just as easily, they’d already gotten over it. Gerard couldn’t impress Frank with his paintings or the ease with which he could aquire an array of soulsucking drugs. And equally, Frank’s rockstar lifestyle could no longer entice Gerard the way it once had. The charm had worn off. You could only write so many songs about a guy before it stopped being cute.

If Gerard had listened to any of Frank’s albums, throughout the handful of bands Frank had been in since they’d broken things off, he’d know half the songs were about _ him _ . Frank sort of hoped Gerard hadn’t listened, though, because those songs were  _ about  _ him, but not  _ for _ him. There was a huge difference, and Frank didn’t care to  _ explain _ that difference. 

The beer-heavy crowd around them was too loud for Frank to speak over, and Gerard hadn’t asked about any of that stuff anyways. So Frank followed along beside Gerard quietly, soon realizing they were headed for the sprawling parking lots beyond the festival barriers. He’d seen the rows of cars from the backseat of the cab he’d taken from the hotel. 

As soon as they’d pushed through the exit, the crowd started to thin out. Frank paused to light a cigarette. 

“I know what you must be thinking…” Gerard said, watching Frank as he savored his first drag. Frank could  _ feel _ his fucking eyes. He was going to have to do something about Gerard’s eyes. Maybe he could rip them right out of Gerard’s stupid pretty face. 

“Oh yeah?” Frank bit, because  _ what the fuck?  _

“What about Mikey, right?” Gerard elaborated. 

“Yeah.  _ Mikey. _ ” Frank said, exhaling a puff of smoke. Totally not where his mind had gone, but,  _ okay.  _

Frank continued to follow alongside Gerard down the rows of cars. It got quieter and quieter the further they got from the festival. He could hear the distant laughter of other groups of people out in the parking lot, headed back to their cars. The buzzing energy of their conversations was so opposite to how Frank was feeling - all melancholy and confused. He’d do anything to trade places.

The thrum of drums and a bassline carried from some stage back inside the festivities. Frank should’ve probably been in the crowd, helping Dewees figure out how to launch up into crowd-surfing territory. Every fiber of his being told him he shouldn’t be with Gerard. 

“He’s in Japan with his fiance.” Gerard went on, “Something about finding himself? I don’t know. Point is, he won’t be back until he’s back. The soonest flight he could arrange isn’t for another week… So…” 

“So…” Frank prompted, accidentally brushing against Gerard. He was way more aware of it now that the crowd wasn’t practically pushing them together. He intentionally put an extra foot of space between them with his next step, now that he had the space to spare. 

“I called him first.” Gerard said, “He told me you were in town for uh… music stuff. And that I should call you...” 

“Like, twenty times?” Frank finished. 

“Yeah. Sorry about that.” Gerard said sheepishly. 

“You couldn’t have just… left me a voicemail?” Frank asked, “Or checked to make sure I even wanted to fucking see you again? I thought I made myself pretty clear the last time we talked.” 

“I wasn’t thinking.” Gerard said. 

“ _ No. _ You never do.” Frank shot back coldly. 

“Frank…” Gerard sighed, “Look, I’m  _ sorry. _ ” 

“Don’t tell me you’re sorry.” Frank demanded, refusing to take another step, “Just tell me what the fuck is going on. Are you dying? That’s the only thing I’ve been able to come up with. What could be  _ so bad,  _ Gerard?” 

Frank had stopped under a one of the many too-bright lamps strewn around the gravel lot. Gerard looked uneasy again. He was all pale skin and dark circles. The white light made him look worse. Sick, exhausted, spent. 

“Nah. I’m not dying...  _ Actively. _ ” Gerard said, shaking his head, “Not like cancer. I’m-It’s… Yesterday I woke up and I wasn’t...  _ me. _ ” 

Frank raised a curious eyebrow, throwing Gerard his best  _ so-done-with-your-fucking-bullshit-right-now  _ look. 

“I’m not me anymore.” Gerard went on,  _ always a dramatic, _ eyes darting around behind Frank nervously, “Well, I am, me, obviously. But I’m…” 

“ _ What? _ ” Frank pressed. 

Gerard parted his lips and drew his upper lip back. A set of sharp white fangs slid out through his upper row of teeth. Frank took a step back, startled by the way they changed the shape of Gerard’s upper lip, making his mouth look too full. He quickly recovered, stepping into Gerard’s space to reach a hand up and poke at them. Whatever costume shop in Hollywood Gerard had gone to… Frank was thoroughly impressed by the likeness. The fangs were sturdy, sharp, and pure white.

“How could I leave you a voicemail about this?” Gerard asked, words muffled and lispy as he tried to keep as still as possible so Frank could continue to examine him, “You’d think I was fucking with you.”

“Are you trying to tell me you’re _ not  _ fucking with me?” Frank retorted, “I don’t appreciate you trying to change the subject like this...”  

“You asked me how I got back stage…” Gerard said.

Gerard pulled Frank’s hand away, locking his fingers around Frank’s wrist tightly. He stared deep into Frank’s eyes. Frank felt something inside of him freeze. He tried to ask what was happening, but he couldn’t talk. He couldn’t step away. Couldn’t turn his head. Couldn’t even  _ blink.  _

“I can… make people do whatever I want them to.” Gerard said softly.

Gerard’s facial features hardened. He looked crueler with his brow furrowed in concentration. Beautiful, but cruel, like he could ruin a man’s life in a heartbeat, and he  _ knew it,  _ too.  

Frank’s lips weren’t working. 

“I’d never use it against you.” Gerard added, “I just wanted to show you how it works...”

Frank stared back at Gerard blankly. Somewhere inside he was half terrified, half annoyed. More terrified than annoyed, if he was honest.  

Frank felt Gerard release him from the strange telekinetic grip. He had to blink a few times to reassure himself he had control again. He held still, fearful of what might happen if he tried to move away. 

“Okay, uh, what the fuck?” Frank breathed.

“I accidentally used it on my cleaning lady this morning...” Gerard said, still holding Frank’s wrist, “I’m still figuring out what’s real and what’s just  _ movie magic... _ ” 

“You mean, you’re a…” Frank paused, tugging his hand free of Gerard’s grip. 

Gerard’s teeth slid back up above his lips and he looked almost normal again, save the paper-white skin, which suddenly made a lot of sense. 

“A  _ vampire. _ ” Frank finished quietly. 

“Yeah. I mean, I guess?” Gerard shrugged, “That seems like the most obvious explanation, doesn’t it?”    
Frank stared Gerard down. There had to be another explanation. Frank’s exes had done strange and desperate things to try and win him back in the past, but this was by far the strangest and most desperate. Frank had promised himself he’d never fall for anything Gerard tried to pull, ever again. It always ended the same way with them. 

But this was different, wasn’t it? When Frank had made that promise to himself he hadn’t really considered  _ vampirism _ .

 

“Well what the fuck do you want  _ me _ to do about it?” Frank asked skeptically, taking a step back from Gerard. 

“I don’t know?” Gerard shrugged, “Help me? This fucking _ sucks. _ ”

Gerard sounded genuinely upset, but now Frank could only wonder. What the fuck was going on? If this was a lie, it was a fucking well-played lie. And if it wasn’t a lie, it was totally fucked up because that meant that vampires were real and Gerard  _ was one. _

“I had to get away from all those innocent people.” Gerard went on, scrubbing his hands over his face, “Their fucking  _ blood.  _ Oh my God, Frank, people are just so full of blood and it’s warm and it’s rushing all around their bodies _ so loudly  _ and I can just smell-” 

“Wait so I don’t count as an innocent person? Like,  _ categorically? _ ” Frank interrupted, taking another step away from Gerard, “I like my blood right where it is, thank you very much. If you lured me away to fucking...”

Frank froze. He reached a hand up to his neck protectively and shook his head fiercely.  

“I’m not going to hurt _ you. _ ” Gerard promised, glaring at Frank, “Don’t be ridiculous.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous?” Frank repeated with a cruel laugh, “You’re the one who’s a fucking-”   

Gerard got to Frank faster than he should’ve been able to. Oh yeah.  _ Vampire. _ He got all up in Frank’s space and frowned, staring harshly into Frank’s eyes. 

“Listen, I need you.” Gerard said, giving Frank that  _ fucking look  _ again, “I need your help. L.A. is fucking sunny and I need blood and there’s  _ huge _ windows in like, every room in my house. I don’t know who else to ask, Frank.  _ Please _ .” 

It was only then that Frank recognized the look as desperation. Pure and forthright. 

“Please Frank.” Gerard said again, pulling away. He took a step back, out of Frank’s space. Frank took a deep breath. 

Gerard was waiting for him to answer. His eyes were so intense, Frank wanted to hide from them. 

“I have other fucking tour dates.” Frank lied, “I can’t just… stay in L.A, Gee.” 

“Again, it’s almost like you don’t know your tour dates are posted on your fucking website.” Gerard scoffed, “Your next date isn’t until the end of the month. New Orleans.” 

Gerard wasn’t really giving Frank much of a choice in this. Frank wanted to point that out, but Gerard had fangs. He was a little hesitant to find out how sharp they were. 

Gerard had been a friend to him in the past.  _ More than a friend _ , actually. And it wasn’t like Frank had much waiting for him in Jersey. There certainly weren’t tour dates. There was his dog, but his mom wouldn’t mind watching Peppers a few extra days...

“Just until Mikey gets back.” Gerard pleaded, “I’ll never ask you for anything ever again, Frank.” 

“My label paid for my return flight.” Frank pointed out as a last ditch effort to back out, “On Sunday night.” 

“Whatever the fee is for changing the flight... I’ll pay it.” Gerard offered. 

Frank considered Gerard for another moment. 

“Fine.” Frank sighed, “... But if you kill me I’m going to be so fucking mad at you.” 

~

 

And that was how Frank ended up in the passenger seat of his ex-boyfriend’s car, speeding down the highway like a bat out of hell. They were both silent at first. Frank was replaying the image of Gerard’s teeth over and over. 

Because it couldn’t be real. It  _ wasn’t  _ real. Frank had to be dreaming, or,  _ nightmaring. _ Maybe he’d hit his head when he’d taken that last stage dive and now he was imagining things.

Only, every time he looked over at Gerard, he looked paler than pale. _ Deader than dead.  _

“Wait…” Frank said. 

Gerard glanced over at him nervously for a second before returning his eyes to the road. 

“Don’t you have to  _ die _ to become a vampire?” Frank asked. 

Gerard nodded. 

“You…  _ died? _ ” Frank repeated. 

“I must have.” Gerard offered easily, “No pulse.”  

Frank swallowed hard. He knew he should be afraid, but he was mostly just  _ upset. _ Even if Frank no longer wanted to be a part of Gerard’s life, someone had taken Gerard’s life  _ away from him -  _ Without his explicit permission. Frank let out a shaky breath. 

It was shock, that was all. The idea that someone he’d shared so much with had actually gone and died on him was a lot to take in after a long day of being the frontman of Death Spells. He pulled the sleeve of his hoodie over his hand and breathed into the fabric. 

“Hey, don’t…” Gerard paused, “Don’t freak out _. _ ” He reached out a hand to touch Frank but seemed to decide against it at the last second. 

“But you  _ died. _ ” Frank pointed out, voice low, “You’re dead. Someone did this to you, right? You didn’t do this to  _ yourself. _ ” 

“Why would I wanna do this to myself?” Gerard asked hysterically, “In fucking L.A. of all places? The only worse possible place to be a vampire would be like, Florida? The fucking _ Sahara? _ I don’t know, Frank!” 

“Who was it?” Frank asked. 

“I don’t, um, I don’t know exactly.” Gerard said hesitantly, “Well, I sort of know...” 

“What the fuck is  _ that  _ supposed to mean?” Frank asked, voice wavering. Frank was officially upset about this. A tear slid down his cheek, catching him off guard. He dabbed it away and turned his face towards the window so Gerard couldn’t see.      

“Hold on.” Gerard said. 

“I’ll kill them.” Frank swore under his breath. 

His phone buzzed, he pulled it out to find a text from James. 

‘ _ found the party. _ ’ it read. Frank slid his phone back in his pocket. 

Gerard turned off the highway at the oncoming exit. Frank had no idea where the fuck they were. Nothing around them looked familiar but why would it? He focused on his breathing as Gerard pulled the car into the first gas station he saw. 

“I can’t believe you’re dead.” Frank said softly, “I should’ve… called you more. Or sent you Christmas cards or something. I don’t know. Fuck. You weren’t supposed to  _ die.  _ Not yet.” 

“Hey.  _ Stop _ .” Gerard said, killing the engine and reaching for Frank, “You don’t get to tell me when I’m allowed to die. I can die whenever I want. It’s my life.”  

There was a gear shift and an empty Coke bottle in the way. The steering wheel didn’t help. Frank let himself lean into Gerard and cry. He was still all sweaty from the show but Gerard didn’t seem to mind. He’d let Frank touch him after shows before. Gerard was so fucking cold, though. What the fuck? Frank was struggling to breathe and hold back sobs at the same time and he ended up sort of choking on his own throat somehow.  

“No no no.” Gerard shushed comfortingly, “Frank, you don’t need to do this. I’m dead but I’m not _gone,_ okay. I’m right here. You can still send me Christmas cards. Every year, if you want.” 

“This is so fucked up.” Frank breathed, squeezing his eyes shut. His head was spinning and oh fuck, he might be sick. 

“I thought you hated Christmas.” Gerard teased gently, petting Frank’s hair. 

“I _ do _ .” Frank said, breath staggering, “But _ you don’t _ .” 

“I don’t.” Gerard agreed.  

 

Frank stared out the driver’s seat window, watching a guy at the pumps filling up his car with gas, probably having a completely normal vampire-free night. Gerard’s fingers were on Frank’s neck, circling the skin gently to try and soothe him. Gerard  _ remembered  _ how that worked _. _

“The idea that you would’ve cried for me… If I was actually dead, I mean.” Gerard said, voice barely above a whisper, “It’s very sweet.” 

“Fuck you.” Frank grumbled. 

Gerard just laughed and hugged Frank tighter. 

The tears had mostly stopped, but they weren’t all under control yet. Frank let out a deep, ragged sigh. His cheek was still pressed into Gerard’s jacket and he was almost aware enough to be embarrassed about it. Almost. The gear shift jabbing into his hip was starting to hurt.  

“I went home with some guy…” Gerard said. 

And ok, Frank pulled away easily then. His brow furrowed as he tried to figure out what the fuck that had to do with anything.

“Before you judge me. He said he knew people in the underworld.” Gerard quickly explained, “He told me he could get me some art deals. Big ones. I thought he meant the  _ art  _ underworld, not… Not  _ this. _ ” 

“What the fuck is the art underworld?” Frank asked, laughing in spite of the jealousy curling in his stomach. 

“I don’t know. Pretentious douchebags are always using weird terms for their underground shit. I thought…” Gerard defended, “I don’t know what I thought… Not  _ this.” _

“But anyways, he mixed us up some drinks, I remember.” Gerard continued, “He must’ve put something in mine. I don’t remember much else from that night… I woke up the next morning in my own bed and I was... Like _ this. _ ” 

“I’ll kill him.” Frank promised darkly. 

“I don’t need you to kill anyone, Frank.” Gerard said, “I just need you to help me fucking… sunproof my house. And I need blood like, yesterday. Cause you’re starting to smell good. And that’s saying something ‘cause you’ve got the booze sweat of about six hundred people on you right now.” 

Frank fucking blinked and Gerard’s fangs were out again. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from them. They were the only definitive proof Frank had to work with. 

“That crowd was so huge, Frankie.” Gerard added, “I had no fucking idea you guys had gotten so  _ big... _ ” 

Frank leaned back against the door, somehow comforted by the extra space it set between them. 

“What?” Gerard asked, taking in Frank’s concerned expression. 

“You’re uh…” Frank faltered, swallowing hard. He hooked a hand behind himself to feel for the door’s handle. Being locked in a car with a hungry vampire could go very, very wrong. No harm in giving himself a few extra seconds of forethought to escape with. Not that it would even help.  

“Oh.” Gerard breathed, hand flying up to cover his mouth, “I’m sorry. They just kinda  _ do that. _ I didn’t…” 

“It’s okay. You said you needed blood…” Frank backtracked, “We just need to get you some. How does that even work? Do we go to a bar and lure someone out? You can make people do whatever you want, right?” 

“But I don’t want to hurt an innocent person.” Gerard said shaking his head, words distorted by his hand. 

“Well if that’s out... You wanna break into a prison? Find someone on death row?” Frank offered sarcastically. 

“I don’t want to be anywhere near those kinds of people.” Gerard said seriously.  

“I think you’d have the upper hand.” Frank pointed out. 

“It’s not _ that _ .” Gerard offered weakly, letting his hand fall away. 

“What? You worried they have cooties?” Frank asked. 

“We’re not breaking into a prison, Frank.” Gerard said firmly. 

“Well, what does that leave us with?” Frank asked. 

“I don’t know.” Gerard sighed, “What do you think will happen if I just  _ don’t _ drink any blood? Will I waste away?” 

“Something tells me you don’t wanna find out.” Frank said, shameless in his selfishness, “Or… I mean, **_I_ ** don’t want to find out.”  

“I’d rather  _ die  _ than drink someone’s blood.” Gerard said, “It doesn’t even sound that good. I’m just so  _ thirsty, Frank. _ It’s awful.” 

“Hey no one’s dying here.” Frank countered, easing away from the door, “If we figure this out you’ve got immortality and Christmas cards… an _ eternity _ of Christmas cards, if you want them.” 

“Do you really think I’m immortal?” Gerard asked curiously. 

“My guess is as good as yours.” Frank said, “We’ll have to do some research. Maybe ask this underworld guy some questions before we fucking kill him...” 

“I’m sorry for dragging you into all this...” Gerard said quietly.

“Stop.” Frank insisted, because if Gerard got all defeated,  _ he’d _ get all defeated, and then he’d just be alone in a parked car with a hungry vampire in an unfamiliar city. In the middle of the fucking night.  _ Why hadn’t he just gone to the party with James? _

“Alright well what about… animal blood?” Frank blurted. It was the first thing that came to mind.

“Animal blood?” Gerard asked skeptically. 

“Yeah.” Frank said, “Do you know any supermarkets open this late around here?” 

“ _ Supermarkets? _ ” Gerard repeated, clearly not following Frank at all. 

“Do you want my help or not?” Frank asked. 

“Of course I do.” Gerard said. 

“Then drive.” Frank commanded. 

~

 

If someone had told Frank that a weekend in L.A. meant he’d be sitting in a parking lot next to his ex, while said ex downed a plastic water bottle full of dark liquid, Frank would’ve promptly told them to fuck off. If they’d said the dark liquid in question would be pig’s blood, Frank would’ve told them to fuck _ the fuck _ off. 

Gerard had found them a 24-hour supermarket a few exits up the highway. 

“Are you sure this is gonna work?” Gerard asked, already dry-heaving after the first gulp. 

“Not at all.” Frank said, almost resting a hand on Gerard’s back as if to comfort the vampire, before pulling it away again, “How do you feel? Any less… thirsty?” 

“I don’t know... “ Gerard mused, “Maybe I should drink more?” 

Gerard pinched his nose closed and threw back another swig. 

“Vile.” He choked out after he’d swallowed it, “Absolutely  _ vile. _ ” 

“ _ Vile’s  _ okay if it gets the job done.” Frank said. 

“Easy for you to say.” Gerard grumbled, holding the bottle up to the light to examine how much more he had to go, “It’s so  _ cold.  _ I think I’m getting a brain freeze.”

“I couldn’t think of a way to ask them to nuke it for us.” Frank said sheepishly, “And I’m not getting back in that car with you until I’m sure you won’t tear me apart.” 

“ _ I won’t! _ ” Gerard declared, offended. 

“Shhhhh. Drink up.” Frank hissed, covering Gerard’s hand with his own to urge the bottle towards Gerard’s lips. Gerard rolled his eyes and tipped the bottom of the bottle up, squeezing his eyes shut as he swallowed another mouthful. 

“Jesus fucking christ.” he breathed. 

“Do you think it’s working?” Frank asked hopefully, shivering as the breeze rustled over them, “I mean, don’t get me wrong. I’d love to sit here all night and watch you choke on pigs blood.” 

“Maybe a little? Your smell isn’t getting to me as much. That might be because we’re outside though. The breeze...” Gerard trailed off, voice scratchy and pained. 

“Maybe it’s like, eating bread and butter when you’ve been starving. It won’t satiate you like a steak dinner would...” Frank mused, watching as Gerard hung his head, letting his dark hair fall over his face. He was panting, slowly curling in on himself. He let out a gross gurgle of a nauseous burp. That wasn’t a good sign. 

Gerard screwed the lid back on the water bottle and let it drop to the pavement. 

“ _ Hey.  _ Are you okay?” Frank asked, a little alarmed by Gerard’s sudden state. He reached out a hand to brush Gerard’s hair out of his face. 

“I thought you were worried about me tearing you apart?” Gerard mumbled darkly. 

“I am.” Frank promised. 

“I won’t but just, maybe… don’t dangle your pulse in front of me like that?” Gerard suggested, pushing Frank’s hand away. 

“Oh. Right.” Frank said, swallowing hard. He wrapped a hand around his wrist protectively and hugged it close to his chest. 

“I feel… better? I guess?” Gerard said quietly, voice almost lost in the wind, “So what now?” 

“Ummm…” Frank hummed thoughtfully, stifling a yawn. His phone buzzed again. 

‘ _ Just making sure you’re not dead. _ ’ James had texted. Frank couldn’t help but let out a poorly stifled breath of a laugh at the irony. The tiny battery icon in his phone started to blink. Frank had seen enough movies that started like this. Having a dead cellphone when accompanying a testy new vampire was probably a bad idea. 

“I need to uh, charge my phone.” Frank said calmly, “Could we go back to your place or something?” 

“I thought you wanted to do dinner first?” Gerard jabbed breathlessly. 

“I think we just ate...” Frank said nervously, “Maybe? I don’t know. How are you feeling?” 

“I think it’s working...” Gerard agreed with a weak nod. 

“You don’t look so good. You want me to drive?” Frank offered. 

“Yeah. Okay.” Gerard said, digging around in his pocket for his keys. 

He extended a pale hand, keys dangling from his slender fingers. He didn’t paint his nails black anymore, Frank noticed, or, he hadn’t lately. 

Frank shoved the keys in his pocket and slid the grocery bag full of blood bottles over his wrist. As soon as he was up, he reached out a hand for Gerard to take, to help him up. 

“Frank, your  _ pulse _ …” Gerard reminded, lifting himself to his feet slowly. 

“Right. Sorry.” Frank squeaked, pulling his hand away.    
~

 

As if Frank didn’t already feel like he was in a bad horror movie, the road to Gerard’s place was dark and winding along the edge of a cliff. 

“Shouldn’t there be a guardrail or something?” Frank asked, hugging the yellow lines in the center of the road on a particularly tight turn. 

“Probably.” Gerard answered weakly. 

He was folded in on himself in the passenger seat, somehow exceeding his previous pallor. He looked like he was about to die,  _ again. _ Seriously, some color scientist could probably claim they’d discovered a new shade of pure white. His lips were curled into a tight frown, eyes closed, brow furrowed. Frank mostly kept his eyes on the road, but he caught glimpses of the vampire on the straight stretches of road. 

Frank felt his phone buzz in his pocket again. He let out a slow breath as he made a mental note to check his phone when they got out of the car. 

“It’s not much farther.” Gerard promised, “It’s coming up on the left. White mailbox.”

 

Frank almost missed the turn into Gerard’s driveway. The mailbox was white, but it also had a twitchy black spiral painted onto it. If Gerard had just warned Frank, he could’ve easily not almost driven them right into the ditch lining Gerard’s driveway. As the headlights landed on the mailbox, Frank realized it was a spider web, with a big black spider stretching over the top. Frank’s heart was still pounding as he put the car in park and slid out of the driver’s seat. 

His movements triggered a motion-detecting light on the front of the house, spilling cold white light over the driveway. He opened the door to the back seat to collect the bottles of pig’s blood.  

By the time he circled the car, Gerard had already rolled out and was doubled over, groaning quietly.    
Frank heard him retch, then retch again. The telltale splatter against the cement meant the pig’s blood wasn’t staying down. The blood was a pitch dark splash against the pale pavement. Gerard whined as another round came spewing out of his mouth. He straightened himself out, wiping his mouth off on the back of his hand, and turned to frown at Frank. His eyes were wild, scared. Frank took a step back, for good measure. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, which meant Gerard could probably hear it, too. Being alone with an almost dead cellphone and a hungry vamp was _ definitely  _ a bad call. 

“I’ll deal with this in the morning.” Gerard informed, “Watch your step.” 

As Frank glanced around, he didn’t see any other lights indicating other houses close by. Gerard had a high hedge lining his yard, which made it harder to tell. It was quiet, unlike the city streets had been. There was nowhere for Frank to run on the likely chance he would have to. He was as good as dead, just like Dewees had jokingly texted him about a half hour before. 

Fuck,  _ Dewees. _ Frank pulled out his phone, only to find it had actually finally died on him.

Gerard wordlessly beckoned for Frank to follow him up to the house. Frank stayed a few paces behind Gerard, as if keeping his distance would help him if Gerard turned on him. 

“My uh, my keys, please.” Gerard said, reaching out a hand when they got to the front door.

“Right.” Frank said. He’d pocketed them when they’d gotten out of the car. His hand was shaking as he offered them over. He hoped Gerard didn’t notice. 

“Welcome to my uh…” Gerard trailed off, turning the keys in the lock and pushing the door open. He flipped on the lights, revealing a mostly tidy living room. 

Frank was thoroughly impressed. He was used to clothes and art supplies and pieces of mixed media paper on every fucking surface. He was used to takeout containers so far beyond rotting they’d come alive and had offspring that had learned how to crawl away. The art on the walls was… tasteful? The posters were framed and hung, instead of thumbtacked. 

“It’s actually uh, neater than usual.” Gerard said, as if answering Frank’s thoughts, “One of my art dealers was over last week… I don’t know why I feel like I have to impress them anymore...” 

“Wait… can you read my mind?” Frank blurted.

Gerard spun around and frowned at Frank. 

“...No?” Gerard said, “Why?” 

“I was just…” Frank faltered, “Curious? Maybe telekinesis comes as part of the package. I don’t know?” 

“Oh. Yeah. Well, I don’t think so?” Gerard said, blinking thoughtfully. His eyes shifted down to the grocery bag in Frank’s hand. Frank handed it over as quickly as he could. 

He followed Gerard further into the house, into a less tidy kitchen. Dishes were piled in the sink. Weird cutouts from magazines were taped all over the fridge, making up frankenstein-style pin-up babes. This was more like the Gerard Frank had known. 

“Like I said, I sort of… scared off my cleaning lady yesterday.” Gerard explained sheepishly, setting the bag down on the counter, “Can I get you anything? Coffee? I have a few beers leftover from my meeting with the art dealers...” 

“Coffee sounds good.” Frank said, moving towards the fridge to inspect the nightmare girls Gerard had created. He’d penned in little stitches where the body parts overlapped. One girl had a second set of arms, another had mouths for nipples, a third had ornately drawn bat wings. 

Frank jumped when the coffee pot clinked against the dishes in the sink as Gerard rinsed it out. He sighed and made a note to not turn his back on the starving vamp again. 

“So I was thinking…” Frank said, turning so he could keep his eye on Gerard, “We could try warming up the-” 

Gerard froze with a bottle of blood tipped up against his lips, eyes wide and dark. He lowered the bottle from his mouth, looking embarrassed. 

“ _ Blood. _ ” Frank finished. 

“I don’t think that’s necessary...” Gerard said nervously, holding the bottle up to his nose to smell it, “It actually smells kinda…. I don’t know?  _ Drinkable. _ ” 

Gerard pulled a mug out of one of the cabinets and poured a few inches of blood into it, then popped it in the microwave. While it was going he poured water into the coffee maker and turned it on. 

Frank watched the mug spin in the microwave. Was there enough blood in there for the smell to fill the kitchen? Frank wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer to that question. 

“How long should I leave it in for?” Gerard wondered out loud. 

“Wouldn’t you want it to be like, human temperature?” Frank asked. 

Gerard frowned. He stopped the microwave and touched his fingers to the side of the mug to check the temperature. It must’ve been right because he pulled the mug out and sniffed at it again. 

He took an experimental gulp, wincing as he held it on his tongue. 

“We could try putting it in your coffee... like creamer?” Frank suggested. 

Gerard choked on the blood as he stifled a laugh. Frank could see him actively trying to keep it in his mouth. It ended up pouring out of his mouth in spite of his efforts, spilling down the front of his shirt. 

“ _ Jesus _ .” He gasped, glancing down at himself, “I’m so glad that didn’t come out of my  _ nose. _ ”

“Sorry...” Frank said quietly, trying to convince himself the sight of his ex boyfriend covered in pig’s blood was just some horrible exhaustion-induced hallucination. Gerard was like a low-key Carrie without the prom, and the dress, and the evil teenagers. He wasn’t about to telekinetically set the building on fire, either.  _ Hopefully. _

Frank needed to charge his fucking phone. 

“It’s okay.” Gerard promised, “It’s just… a good thing I’m wearing black.”  

He set down the mug so he could pull off his denim jacket. Gerard looked so much paler with his arms exposed. They were snow white. He looked like a walking corpse. And actually, that was basically what he was. But Frank dismissed the thought from his mind immediately. 

Gerard picked up the mug again and sucked down the rest of the blood. He hovered over to the plastic bag full of bottles and opened the next one, draining it in one long drink without bothering to heat it up. 

When he turned back towards Frank, the whites of his eyes had disappeared. They were solid-black, evil, and depthless. Frank took a step back, bumping up against the fridge. He heard a magnet slide off and hit the floor. 

“What’s wrong?” Gerard asked obliviously. 

“Your uh… your  _ eyes _ …” Frank said slowly, trying to keep his voice even, “They’re…  _ black. _ ” 

“Huh. That’s weird.” Gerard commented, “I can’t see my reflection anymore, so…”

Gerard briefly tried to glance at himself where there should’ve been a reflection in the glass panel on the microwave. Frank looked too. There wasn’t even a  _ blur  _ where Gerard should be standing. Disinterested, Gerard reached for a third bottle of blood. He sucked it right down. 

They were going to need more blood soon, Frank noted. 

“Wow, I feel  _ way _ better.” Gerard panted. 

“Are you sure it’s gonna stay down?” Frank asked nervously. He couldn’t pull himself away from the fridge. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself on the off chance Gerard had gone into full  _ bloodlust  _ mode. __

“Only one way to find out.” Gerard shrugged, “Maybe I won’t change my shirt just in case?” 

The coffee pot gurgled, which made Frank startle again.  

“I promised I wouldn’t hurt you.” Gerard said, apparently taking offence at Frank’s timid state.  

“You _ said _ you wouldn’t hurt me.” Frank said, “You never  _ promised _ anything.” 

“Well, I think it was  _ implied. _ ” Gerard frowned, “But if you’d like me to explicitly say it… I _ promise _ not to hurt you.”

“Okay.” Frank nodded, “ _ Okay. _ ”    
This way if Gerard did go full  _ bloodlust  _ and rip Frank apart, his verbal confirmation would make it unjust. Frank could live with that. Or,  _ die _ with that, rather. 

“Didn’t you need to charge your phone?” Gerard asked,  “Do you have a charger? What kind of phone do you have? I might have-” 

“I have a charger.” Frank answered, “I think I left my backpack in the car...”

“I’ll go get it.” Gerard said, grabbing his keys off the counter and ghosting out of the kitchen. 

“Pour yourself some coffee.” Gerard added from somewhere in the other room. 

Frank remained frozen until he heard the front door shut. 

~ 

 

Frank sipped his coffee. Gerard watched. Apparently, Gerard could no longer enjoy coffee. He could smell it, but the brew had virtually no taste for him whatsoever. 

“My caffeine addiction will have to be lived vicariously from now on, I guess?” Gerard had explained sadly, staring at Frank’s mug.  

They were sitting around the small table in Gerard’s kitchen, hashing out the battle plan for the following day. They’d checked the walmart website and found blackout curtains. 

“Coffins… coffins…  _ coffins… _ ” Gerard mumbled as he squinted at his laptop. 

When he glanced up at Frank, he quirked an eyebrow. 

“I set up an air mattress in the laundry room down in the basement. It’s light-tight, but it just isn’t…  _ comfortable, _ you know?” Gerard explained. 

Frank didn’t know, but he hummed in agreement anyways. 

“I figured, maybe there’s something more to the whole ‘ _ sleeping in a coffin _ ’ thing?” Gerard mused, “It can’t hurt to try?” 

Frank’s phone started to ring, he got up to check. 

_ James.  _ Who else? 

“I’m alive.” Frank said after he’d answered, he glanced over at Gerard as he said it. 

Gerard frowned quizzically at this statement before returning his attention to his laptop.

“That’s good.” James sing-songed,  _ drunk probably, _ “I’d hate to have to be the one to explain that you weren’t.” 

“I’m sorry, man. My phone died.” Frank said. 

“It’s cool. I know how it goes.” James said, “Just wanted verification you aren’t coming back to the hotel tonight so I can deadbolt the door. Sounds like something  _ very unchill  _ is going on in the next room.” 

“I’m not coming back.” Frank confirmed with a sigh, feeling guilty. He was supposed to be there with James. This was supposed to be their weekend, _ together.  _

“I understand...” James said, “We should do hungover brunch tomorrow? I’m gonna need tacos, and a lot of them.” 

“Yeah. Call when you wake up.” Frank said. 

“I ordered room service on the label’s tab. I’ll pour a sip of champagne out for ya...” James said.

“I’m not dead.” Frank laughed, “That’s what you do for someone who’s… Nevermind. Goodnight James.”

“Goodnight Frankie.” Dewees burped. 

When Frank set his phone down, leaving it to charge longer, Gerard was staring at him again. He’d left his coffee on the table, so it couldn’t be that. Frank figured it must be the whole ‘ _ living and full of blood _ ’ thing. He could sympathize, sort of. He was probably way more delicious than an already-dead pig, though,  _ that _ wasn’t saying much. 

“Find anything?” Frank asked, returning to his seat 

“Tempted to buy a new refrigerator just for the box it comes in...” Gerard said, frowning at his laptop, “I didn’t even think… you’re probably exhausted with the time difference… If you wanna crash...” 

Between the coffee, and the show, and all the vampire business, Frank had forgotten entirely about jet lag. If it was pushing 2am in L.A. - if the small neon digits on the microwave were correct - that meant it was pushing 5am back in Jersey. 

“You certainly don’t have to stay awake.” Gerard pointed out.

“Coffee.” Frank reminded, holding up his mug. 

“Right....” Gerard nodded, looking back towards his computer screen. 

Frank took another sip of his coffee and tried to read what Gerard had written on the little notepad beside his laptop. He’d never been good at reading letters upside down, but he tried anyways.  _ Blackout Curtains, Blood…  _ It was a shopping list. 

“How’s James?” Gerard asked. 

“James?” Frank asked, eyes darting up to meet Gerard’s.

“Yeah.” Gerard said, “How is he?” 

“He’s… uh, good?” Frank paused, “I don’t know? He’s pretty much the same as always.” 

“Good.” Gerard sighed, “That’s good to hear.” 

“Yeah.” Frank swallowed. 

It took a minute for Frank to register the feeling in his throat as a result of the awkwardness between them. 

“So basically…” Gerard said, running a hand through his hair, “I need you to get some things for me, since I can’t easily get them myself.” 

Gerard pulled out his wallet and set a few bills on the table, then placed a sparkly black credit card on top. 

“This should be enough for everything. Whatever isn’t covered, just put on my card.” Gerard explained, “Plus, whatever you need to make yourself comfortable here. Until Mikey gets back.” 

“Alright.” Frank said, giving Gerard’s shopping list a calculating frown. 

“Blood and blackout curtains are obviously priorities here.” Gerard added, “I know this is sort of… a lot, but I wrote the address for my favorite butcher shop. Their product tends to be grass-fed, free range… I won’t get into detail-” 

Frank didn’t even try to contain the sharp crack of laughter he let out.  

“What?” Gerard asked. 

“It’s just funny to hear you say things like ‘butcher shop’ and ‘free range.’” Frank said, “It’s…  _ not you. _ ” 

“Well… I’ve changed a lot.” Gerard said simply.

It was a very loaded statement. 

It was a promise. 

An apology as well, perhaps. 

“Me too...” Frank sighed, looking for some way to dodge the conversation entirely, “So anyways… I’m sorry, you were saying, about the butcher shop?” 

~ 

 

It took Frank a moment to remember where he was. Waking up in strange places came with the ‘ _ successful touring band _ ’ territory, but in all his years, Frank had never gotten used to it. Gerard had offered Frank his guest room, but Frank hadn’t wanted to get too comfortable. And anyway Gerard’s couch had been more than comfortable. Frank had slept like  _ the dead.  _

How strange to wake up in his ex-boyfriend’s living room, fully clothed, showered, and well-slept... If anyone had tried to tell him his weekend was going to go like this, he would’ve told them to  _ fuck the fucking fuck _ off. 

Joints cracking, Frank got up and wandered into the kitchen to check his phone. James hadn’t called yet. He was probably still passed out in their hotel room, hugging an empty champagne bottle in nothing but a bathrobe.  

Frank pulled the curtains above the kitchen sink. The sun was well into the sky. He poured some of last night’s coffee into a mug and popped it into the microwave. He briefly considered cleaning the microwave out first. He wasn’t sure if it was good vegan practice for pig’s blood and coffee to be warmed in the same place. That was hardly something he could Google. He was too tired to really think about it and let the mug spin around for another minute, puzzled. 

Frank and his mug of reanimated coffee wandered back into the den. He opened a few other sets of curtains so he could peer out at Gerard’s yard. The house was on the edge of a cliff, overlooking the rolling hills. The garden was wild, full of thorny rosebushes and weeds, but the lawn itself seemed relatively tidy. Gerard really _ had _ gotten his shit together, it seemed. Or, he payed someone else to make it  _ look l _ ike he had his shit together. Who was Frank to judge? Was there even a difference between having your shit together and pretending to have your shit together? Frank didn’t even have a yard, just a small apartment and a dog. 

He took the opportunity to explore the rest of Gerard’s house. A dark, too-tidy bedroom, an office, a reading room… Frank pushed open the door to the next room. Easels held paintings, covered by drop cloths. A messy desk with painting supplies piled high sat in the far corner of the room, beside a stereo and a paint sink. Canvases were leaning against every surface. Daylight filtered in through a large skylight. Frank took one step into the room and paused. It was obviously a studio space. He was beyond curious what Gerard had been up to. It had to be amazing if he could afford to keep such a house all by himself. 

Frank hesitated, though. Gerard loved presentation. He loved to explain his work as he showed it. To look at it without Gerard there felt like a trespass of some sort. He’d wait for Gerard to show him. Frank wondered idly if Gerard could hear him wandering the house. Just because he couldn’t come out of the basement didn’t mean he was asleep.

Gerard had left his car keys on the coffee table. As soon as he finished his coffee, Frank pocketed the list, the cash, and the car keys, and made his way back to the hotel. 

~

 

James was still fast asleep by the time Frank got there. It had taken way longer to drive over than it probably should have. There had been a ridiculous amount of traffic, which made no fucking sense for a Sunday morning. Wasn’t everyone supposed to be in Church or something? Maybe the good people of Los Angeles didn’t need God the way people in Jersey did.   

Frank swiped himself into their hotel room and tiptoed over to his bag, grateful Dewees had apparently forgotten all about deadbolting the door. 

Frank had mostly gotten James right. The champagne bottle wasn’t in his arms, but lying at the foot of his bed. The bathrobe was only covering about half of him. It looked like his suitcase had exploded, which thoroughly impressed Frank. Socks were all over the fucking room. To that end, who the fuck packed that many pairs of socks for a single weekend? 

Dewees was sort of awake by the time Frank had showered off and changed clothes. He’d only had one cup of coffee, but Frank was anxious as all hell. He couldn’t sit still. He packed up his backpack so he’d have everything he needed to crash at Gerard’s again. He was ready to leave before James was even out of bed. 

“What’s wrong, Frankie?” James asked, eyeing Frank as he rifled through all of James’ equipment to make sure they hadn’t forgotten anything at the festival last night. 

“Just hungry.” Frank said easily, fingers brushing Gerard’s car keys in his pocket. 

“Me too.” James said, pulling on a t-shirt and wiping the sleep from his eyes, “Tacos?” 

“Tacos.” Frank agreed. 

 

James gave him a look as he led them to the parking lot, instead of to the Taxi bay at the front of the hotel. Frank dutifully ignored it and pulled the keys out of his pocket, letting them jingle in a telltale sort of way. 

James chain-smoked out the car window as he directed them to what he claimed to be ‘the best taco spot in L.A.’  He wasn’t sure if Gerard was cool with anyone smoking in his car, but James didn’t seem particularly concerned about it. 

The taco place was packed with Sunday morning brunch-goers. Breakfast tacos were apparently L.A.’s version of church. The place smelled  _ fucking heavenly,  _ anyway. 

James was still giving Frank the same fucking look after the waitress had taken their order. (Frank had ordered the garlic-seitan tacos. Emphasis on the  **_garlic._ ** ) He waggled his eyebrows at Frank as he sipped on his record-label-funded mimosa. 

“I think I’m gonna stay in L.A. a little longer.” Frank started, “Gerard-” 

“ _ That good, _ huh?” James asked.  

“ _ What? _ ” Frank asked. 

“You’re driving his _ car… _ ” James pointed out innocently. 

“ _ Yeah. _ ” Frank defended, “I am.” 

“It’s cute.” James shrugged. 

“It’s not-” Frank started to say. He stopped himself. He couldn’t explain he wasn’t fucking Gerard, because then he’d have to explain that Gerard had been turned into a vampire and needed Frank’s help. And it wasn’t really Frank’s secret to tell. Not right now. 

“I get it.” James smiled, “It’s weird with exes, you know? They remember everything you  _ like. _ ”

Frank took a deep breath instead of arguing. He really didn’t need to be thinking about Gerard remembering what he  _ liked. Oh God.  _

“I retract my previous statement though. The one about Gerard being unhelpful to our weekend escape.” James grinned deviously, “Tell him I said ‘hello,’ will you?”  

Frank frowned. 

~

 

“So I have two VIP wristbands to La Dispute for this afternoon.” James said as soon as he’d finished chewing his last bite of taco and wiped his lips with a salsa-covered napkin. 

“I can’t.” Frank said, shaking his head. 

“Bullshit you can’t.” James countered, “Frankie, you’ve been talking about La Dispute for a fucking  _ month. _ ” 

“I know.” Frank said. 

“Where the fuck do you have to  _ be? _ ” James asked incredulously, “If it’s Gerard, I’m sure we can get him in, too. 

“You know he doesn’t like crowds… I have to, uh,” Frank paused to laugh, “I have to go to _ Ikea… _ ” 

The look on James’ face said he was waiting for a punchline. Frank didn’t have the heart to tell him there wasn’t one. 

“Come on. Make him wait.” James pressed.  

“Fine.” Frank sighed. 

“I’m serious.” James said, “Fucking  _ La Dispute, _ Frank.” 

“ _ Fine.”  _ Frank insisted, _ “ _ But I’m doing this for La Dispute. It has nothing to do with you.”

“If that’s what you gotta tell yourself, man.” Dewees smirked, “I wouldn’t want it any other way.” 

~   

 

Naturally, a few hours later Frank and Dewees ended up in the pit at La Dispute. Frank raged along with the crowd, grinning like crazy in the baking sunshine. They played every song he’d wanted them to play. He was sweaty and spent by the time their set was over. As he staggered along with the thinning crowd, he found the horrible anxious feeling that had been following him around all day had finally gone away. 

Frank used some of Gerard’s cash to buy himself a tour t-shirt. It seemed like a fair payment for sacrificing his weekend. Gerard had said he should get himself whatever made him comfortable. He pondered buying the limited edition vinyl they had out at the merch table, but he hadn’t seen a record player in Gerard’s house, and buying it to take home to Jersey later felt like a betrayal of some kind.   

They parted ways after the show. James ran off for some other set he wanted to catch, reminding Frank to tell Gerard he said ‘hello’ before disappearing. Peeling his sweat-soaked t-shirt off and pulling on the fresh one felt so good. Frank didn’t care who saw him do it. 

The feeling was short-lived. Frank was disgustingly swampy again by the time he made it back to where he’d parked Gerard’s car. It was a different kind of heat than they got in Jersey. It wasn’t humid, it was  _ dry _ . It made his head hurt and his lungs ache. The car itself was baking inside from having sat in the sun for a few hours, like hell’s hottest convection oven. 

Frank decided he was fucking tired of the sun. He wasn’t sure how Gerard did it all the time. Not that he would be doing it anymore… 

 

Sweat-soaked shopping list in hand, Frank was able to track down the black-out curtains, and Gerard’s grass-fed, organic blood without much difficulty. He hadn’t had to explain himself at the butcher shop, which had been a pleasant surprise. The guy at the counter had a plentiful supply of blood already portioned out and ready to sell. He’d even asked if Frank had a blood pudding recipe ready to go, or if he needed one. Frank absolutely did not want to know anything about blood pudding, so he’d said he already had one.  

Driving everywhere in L.A. was hell, between the traffic and the endless supply of people who never signalled their turns, or seemed to have any fucking clue where they were going. Not to mention the  _ motherfucking sun. _ It felt like his left arm was already tanner than his right arm from having sat in the car for so long. 

Frank was wound up again by the time he got to Ikea. He’d never been to a furniture store  _ alone  _ before. He was certain he stood out like a sore thumb, with his sweat-damp hair, and his crisp La Dispute t-shirt. The tattoos usually drew people’s attention anyways. 

He quickly made his way through the showroom, looking for any type of ‘storage solution’ that might function as a coffin comfortable enough to sleep in. It still took him a fucking hour and a half.   

“Can I help you find anything?” an employee had asked. 

Frank just waved them off. 

_ “A box I can fit my ex-boyfriend’s body in.” _ had hardly seemed like an appropriate response.

~ 

 

The sun was low in the sky by the time Frank was making his way back to Gerard’s. The back seat of Gerard’s car was full of shopping bags. He’d gotten a cooler to keep the blood bottles in while he’d been at Ikea. Even with the air conditioning on full, Frank was still worried about the blood’s integrity. There was nothing grosser than the thought of Gerard chugging spoiled pig’s blood... He’d also picked up some more beer, and a microwave-safe thermos Gerard could heat his blood in that might make things a bit more sanitary. 

A second car was parked in the driveway as Frank pulled up to Gerard’s house. Perhaps the cleaning lady was back for another round? Frank hurriedly grabbed the shopping bags and made a dash for the front door as he realized she might open the basement door and  _ kill  _ the poor vampire. 

A woman with black hair, messily scrunched up in pigtails, was standing on the porch with her hands on her hips, looking profoundly annoyed. She gave Frank a solid once-over as he approached her. He returned the look. How the fuck was she wearing a black dress with long sleeves in this heat? 

“Who the fuck are you and why are you driving Gerard’s car?” she asked. 

Frank couldn’t tell if she was joking by her tone, but if this was Gerard’s fucking girlfriend or something Frank was _ so fucking out of here…  _

“I should be asking you the same thing.” Frank returned blankly. 

_ “ _ Well, _ I  _ wasn’t driving his car. But I’m his  _ agent. _ ” she announced impatiently, “And I’d love to know why he’s ignoring my calls… Is he here right now?” 

“...No?” Frank said slowly. 

She frowned, but seemed to accept his answer with a nod. 

“You want me to take a message?” Frank asked. 

“What are you, his secretary?” she scoffed. 

“Sort of.” Frank answered, “I guess?” 

“He has time to hire a secretary, but he can’t just…  _ paint something? _ ” she complained. 

“Here. Why don’t you come inside?” Frank asked, mostly in the interest of getting the blood and beers into the fridge as quickly as possible. 

He set down the shopping bag to unlock the door. It felt weird to invite a stranger into Gerard’s house, but she certainly  _ sounded _ like she knew Gerard already. 

“Can I get you anything?” Frank asked. 

The woman had already disappeared down the hallway, towards Gerard’s studio. She knew the drill already. Frank had half a thought to follow her in, just to get a peek at whatever Gerard was working on.  

But he’d wait for Gerard to show him. He promised himself he’d wait.

He glanced around the doorway before stuffing the blood bottles into the fridge. No reason to have to explain those.  

He set the blackout curtains on the counter and started to read the suggestions for hanging them. He couldn’t really focus on the words though. It was mostly an act to look busy until this lady left. 

 

The woman returned a few minutes later with a cloth-draped canvas under one arm. 

“Tell Gerard I’ll bring this back sometime next week. I don’t care if it’s finished.” She said, lifting up the edge of the cloth to take another look at it, “It’s the uh, stepford wives looking one. I think? I just have to show them  _ something.  _ He’ll understand. He always does this shit to me.”

“I’ll let him know.” Frank nodded.  

“So what are you,  _ really _ ?” She asked curiously, setting the painting down on the kitchen counter, “Personal Assistant? Personal trainer? Personal…  _ Boyfriend? _ ” 

“None of the above.” Frank shrugged, answering carefully, “Uh… just a friend of Gerard’s.” 

She smiled like she thought they might be fucking anyways. And actually what _ the fuck  _ was with that? Couldn’t exes hang out for five minutes without everyone sexualizing the situation? 

“Well, if you’re still around in a few days, make sure he knows we still have a meeting here on Tuesday. Just me, no gallery owners.” She said, “I need him to have a few pieces ready for that. Preferably some drafts, too, since he promised that Dark Horse agent he’d be doing some cover art for them.” 

“Okay.” Frank said, struggling to hold all that information in his head. 

“I’ll e-mail him. Don’t worry.” She added, “It’s just… maybe if he hears it from someone other than me it’ll actually register as his responsibility.” 

And, okay, maybe Gerard still didn’t have his shit together at all. Frank smiled at the thought.

“Did you catch La Dispute today?” she asked. 

“Yeah!” Frank said, “How did you-” He stopped himself. Realizing he was still wearing the t-shirt he’d gotten. 

“I wanted to go, but I couldn’t get away from work.” she said, “Was it worth it?” 

“ _ So _ fucking worth it.” Frank grinned.

~ 

 

Frank didn’t know what to do with himself as he waited for the sun to go down the rest of the way. It was too hot to go anywhere. He wanted to snoop around Gerard’s place more, but he was also sort of wiped out. Nothing would be better than La Dispute anyways. Frank could admit to feeling a little post-show blues on top of everything. 

He still felt gross from being in the pit in the baking sun. He brought a beer into the shower with him, and made extra, extra sure to lock the bathroom door behind him. 

He just had to tread lightly on this whole thing. The stuff between him and Gerard was so old it hardly mattered now, but they hadn’t really talked about any of it. There wasn’t really anything left to say that hadn’t already been said, but that didn’t mean things weren’t still sort of weird.  

Dewees’ comment from brunch was still haunting Frank, too. The one about exes  _ remembering what you liked.  _ He wondered what Gerard remembered about him. Frank had a tendency to remember the bad things. He knew that about himself. It came with being an asshole 24/7. Gerard was sort of the opposite in that regard. He liked to remember the good things… So Frank was curious what stuck out to Gerard. 

The shower seemed to counteract the beer quite nicely. The buzz had worn off by the time Frank was out of the bathroom. Hair still dripping, he collected the mugs off the kitchen table from the night before. A ring of blood was caked around the inside of Gerard’s mug where the microwave had baked it on. 

He set it in the sink to soak and poured out the rest of the coffee from the night before to start a fresh pot. Before he knew what he was doing, Frank was scrubbing dishes. There weren’t a lot of them. Gerard didn’t usually  _ cook _ things, or, he didn’t used to. It was mostly coffee mugs, a pizza cutter, a few sharp knives... 

Frank put up the blackout curtains in the kitchen first, then moved on to the living room. They were fucking heavy, and only blocked out  _ most  _ of the light. Frank would have to come up with some way to reinforce the windows so sunlight couldn’t trickle in through the edges of the curtains. He found a roll of duct tape and taped the edges of the curtains against the walls, which seemed to help, but it couldn’t be good for the paint. At least Gerard could be in his own living room again.

He wasn’t sure what the fuck Gerard was going to do about his art studio. The window in the ceiling was _huge._ And to that end, could Gerard even paint without natural light to direct his color choices? Frank didn’t wanna think about it too much, because then he’d just think about how Gerard was cursed and technically _dead._

He had a few more sets of curtains to hang, in the bedroom and office, respectively, but he’d wait for Gerard to help him with those. After getting himself a cup of coffee, he curled up on the couch and turned on the TV. He’d put a few ice cubes in his mug. Even with air conditioning he was still too hot to drink hot coffee. 

Frank got out his laptop and ended up on the internet. Before attending to anything, Frank went straight to the Death Spells official website and scrolled through. The label had made some updates since he’d at it last. The tour dates were there, as Gerard had mentioned.  

After a while Frank decided he’d armed himself with enough information on his own band’s website (in case Gerard decided to attack him with it again), and moved on to looking for  _ actual _ coffins. He’d taken pictures of a few different things at Ikea that Gerard might be able to transform into coffin-like situations, but nothing beat an actual coffin. Being so close to Hollywood had its advantages, apparently, because lots of people had listed coffins for sale. Frank e-mailed his label to ask about switching his flight and started to send out e-mails to a few of the ad posters to set up viewings. 

A few e-mails in, Frank got fidgety. When was the last time he’d had a cigarette? He was probably just anxious for Gerard to come out. It was hard to tell how close to sundown it was with the blackout curtains up. Frank wandered over to the front door and opened it a few inches. The sun had disappeared behind the hills, but the sky was still bright. Frank eyed the large black stain on the driveway and realized in horror that the second-time-around-pigs-blood from the night before had baked onto the concrete all day long.  _ Ew.  _ He hoped it rained in L.A., because that was not something Frank wanted to clean, and Gerard had probably already forgotten. 

Frank sat back down on the couch and stared at the TV. He wondered what James was up to. He thought about what his weekend would look like if Gerard hadn’t dragged him into all this. He’d probably be out filling himself with poisons that would leave him needing a fucking vacation instead of enjoying the vacation he was already on. He’d probably be out meeting people right now. Maybe James could track down whatever party La Dispute was supposed to end up at tonight... 

Frank immediately blocked the possibility from his mind. 

Eventually, Frank heard a door creak open somewhere inside the house. The refrigerator door opened after that, bottles in the door clinking against one another in a telltale fashion. 

Gerard was sitting down beside Frank faster than he should’ve been able to, tub of blood in hand. 

It had to be the vampirism making Gerard’s bed head charming, rather than sloppy. That’s what Frank told himself. 

“Hey.” Gerard said, voice groggy. 

“Hey.” Frank mirrored. 

“How uh…  _ what’s up? _ ” Gerard asked, sucking down half the container. 

Frank shrugged, not sure where to start. 

“How’d you sleep?” Frank asked. 

“Okay.” Gerard said, “Could be worse, I guess? How was… _ Ikea? _ ” 

“No Swedish build-it-yourself coffins.” Frank said, “But I have some ideas... I found some people selling coffins around the city. Most were advertised as gently used movie props so I don’t know how comfortable they’d be. I e-mailed some of them to set up showings anyways...”

“Viewings, you mean.” Gerard smirked, “That’s what they’d call it at a funeral, anyways…” 

“The padding in those things can’t be as comfortable as a mattress?” Frank smiled, ignoring Gerard’s comment. He didn’t wanna think about Gerard being dead anymore. Once was enough.  

“I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?” Gerard sighed, “Or, I mean, _ I _ will. You don’t have to get in any coffins...”

“I might?” Frank pointed out, “I mean, I’m assuming most of the sellers will want to see them during daylight. Asking them to sell us a coffin in the middle of the night seems kinda… sketchy?” 

“Right.” Gerard said with a puzzled look on his face.  

“ _ Right. _ ” Frank agreed, taking a sip of cold coffee,  “Anyways, so there’s that, the blackout curtains, the blood… I got enough blood to last you through tomorrow I think. We’ll have to look at preservation options so you don’t have to go out every other day. I also got a cooler so Mikey can transport it more easily in the heat when he comes back.”

“That’s sweet.” Gerard said. 

Frank grinned, a touch too happy he’d gotten everything right. 

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re going to do about your studio.” Frank said, eyes widening as he realized he’d just admitted he’d snooped around the house, “The window in the ceiling, I mean. The  _ sunlight. _ ” 

“You’re uh… agent dropped by earlier? I was in there trying to help her.” Frank explained, trying to backtrack, “I didn’t catch her name.” 

“My  _ agent? _ ” Gerard asked, “You mean Lyn-Z?” 

“Pigtails?” Frank offered helplessly. 

“She’s not my agent.” Gerard said, “Well, she is. But she’s also my assistant

“She took a painting with her...” Frank added sheepishly, “She was kind of scary. I didn’t know how to stop her.” 

“Oh, which one?” Gerard asked. 

“Stepford wives?” Frank asked. 

“Hmmm…” Gerard frowned, “Not what I would’ve picked, but okay.” 

Frank was just relieved he didn’t seem mad. 

“I really…  _ appreciate _ all that you’ve done.” Gerard sighed, “I know it probably doesn’t seem like much, but I don’t know what the fuck I would be doing right now. I think I kind of already owed you my life before, but now I  _ really  _ owe you my life.” 

“Well, you’re welcome.” Frank said, resting his head back against the couch cushions 

“We still have to adjust your flight arrangements. Did you talk to your label?” Gerard asked. 

“No…” Frank said. It was later than late in Jersey now. He couldn’t call. The perfect time to call would’ve been… about when he was thrashing around in the pit at La Dispute.

“But I’ll e-mail them.” Frank amended. 

“Good.” Gerard said, “I think you’ve got plenty of time to do that, still… Nothing to stress about.” He took another long swig of blood, eyes blackening as he savored the taste. Frank was totally staring again.  

“Was there anything you wanted to do while you were here?” Gerard asked, shifting his position on the couch, “In L.A., I mean? I’m sort of confined by the sun obviously, but I could make some recommendations on bars or like, museums?” 

“Nah.” Frank said, shaking his head, “I don’t know about James, but I caught the only band I wanted to see, and we played a great show yesterday. That was kind of all I needed...” 

Gerard nodded. 

“James says ‘Hi’ by the way.” Frank added, “We got tacos earlier.” 

“Tell him I say ‘Hi’ back.” Gerard said.

“If you wanted to see him we could probably go find him?” Frank offered. 

“What do you think he’s doing?” Gerard asked, “Does he have friends here?” 

“No, but he’s really,  _ really _ good at making new ones.” Frank smirked. 

~ 

 

“I don’t know if I should go to a party...” Gerard offered nervously. 

“You ate before we left. You’ll be _ fine. _ ” Frank promised. 

“But I finished all the blood.” Gerard pointed out, “Didn’t you say that was supposed to last me through _ tomorrow _ ?” 

“ _ I _ don’t know how much you’re supposed to be drinking.” Frank shrugged, “I googled it and came up with nothing, okay? Maybe you drank the right amount? Do you feel thirsty still?” 

“Well, _ no.” _ Gerard said, “But-” 

“We’re not going in. We’re just picking him up.” Frank said. 

“Right.” Gerard nodded, knuckles tight on the steering wheel. 

“I’ll get you some more tomorrow. Are you sure you’re okay to drive?” Frank asked skeptically. 

“Yeah.” Gerard said, “It’s fine.” 

James had somehow managed to end up at a party in West Hollywood. After a lot of slurred phone conversation, Frank had managed to get cross streets off of him. Gerard told Frank they’d take the scenic route so Frank could experience the sights. Frank had no objection, though he was sort of anxious about getting to his very drunk bandmate. 

“I guess I should mention…” Frank hesitated, not sure how to explain himself, “I didn’t wanna tell James what was actually going on with you so I kind of let him just...  _ assume?” _

“ _ Assume? _ ” Gerard asked obliviously, still audibly distraught over his blood consumption.  

“Well, like, I didn’t come back last night, you know?” Frank offered vaguely, “And you and me, like,  _ historically speaking _ …” Frank trailed off. 

“ _ Oh _ .” Gerard said, snapping out of it, “Yeah. We used to...” 

“Uh,  _ yeah. _ ” Frank said, feeling himself blush, “I wasn’t sure if you’d be okay with me telling him. So many vampires are so secretive about it in movies and shit. And it’s, like, not my secret, you know? But I can explain what’s really going on if you think I should?” 

“No?” Gerard said, “I mean, if he’s not asking questions I guess it makes sense to leave things the way they are. At least, until I figure everything out.”  

“Okay. Well, if he mentions it…” Frank said. 

“I’ll just go along with it.” Gerard promised. 

“Cool.” Frank sighed, staring out the window, praying Gerard couldn’t pick up on the way talking about it had made his heart accelerate.  

L.A. was pretty at night. The palm trees looked strange in the orange glow of the streetlights. Windows down, wind blowing through Frank’s hair, he thought of home. Places like Los Angeles, Chicago, and even Austin, Texas, were all destinations for kids back in Jersey. The big cities were idealized mostly because they were so far away from Jersey. Frank found it interesting that Gerard had chosen to run away, and that he’d run here. Frank hadn’t wanted to run away. He wanted to stay in Jersey. Die in Jersey. Be buried in Jersey. He couldn’t picture wanting to run away from it. Then again, he hadn’t gone through what Gerard had gone through. 

 

Eventually they found the party. Dewees was waiting outside of some apartment building, smoking a cigarette and swaying a little. He had a dark stain down the side of his tank top and he’d totally gotten a sunburn, too. He climbed into the back of Gerard’s car, cigarette still burning.  

“Thanks for picking me up, Mom and Dad.” he said, “What are we gonna do?” 

“You hungry, son?” Gerard deadpanned. 

“How could you tell, Dad?” James laughed. 

“I know a good burger place around the corner.” Gerard offered. 

Before Frank could open his mouth to bring up the whole  _ vegetarian _ thing, Gerard beat him to it. 

“ _ Vegan Ice Cream _ .” Gerard said, with a devious smirk. 

~ 

 

Gerard had to explain on what he’d meant by “good burger place.” The place was full of drunks. 

The lighting was harsh. The employees were mean. But apparently the food was good. Gerard promised. 

The three of them didn’t stick around. They’d ordered everything to-go. James waited outside the place because he kept forgetting _ why _ they were waiting. 

The ice cream place was actually next door. Frank couldn’t figure out why a place that only sold vegan ice cream was open so late, but it wasn’t like Jersey had anything similar. Maybe late night vegan ice cream consumers were an untapped market begging for someone to start up a business? Frank filed the idea away for when he decided he was too fucking old to keep screaming and breaking shit on stage. 

Gerard paid for Frank’s ice cream before Frank could, which he felt sort of weird about. 

“You didn’t have to do that.” Frank said, eyeing Gerard.  

“It’s the least I can do.” Gerard said quietly, “Seriously.”  

“You gonna buy me ice cream for the rest of eternity?” Frank asked, quirking a sarcastic eyebrow.

“If it comes with an eternity of Christmas cards, I’m game.” Gerard shot back.  

They stood out on the sidewalk, watching the late night traffic go by on Santa Monica Boulevard. James had bummed a cigarette from some guy standing outside the burger place while they’d been buying ice cream, and now they were deeply engaged in a conversation about the local punk scene. The only thing more distracting than burgers when Dewees was this trashed was punk music. He was barely even smoking the cigarette he was waving around in his hand as he gestured wildly, talking about homemade pedal rigs or some shit he and Frank had talked about a thousand times. They were hardly in a hurry, so Frank let it go on. 

“Want some?” Frank asked, offering his ice cream cone over to Gerard.

“Nah, I can’t.” Gerard said, waving it away. 

“You said you can’t  _ taste it. _ ” Frank pointed out, “But that doesn’t mean you can’t  _ eat it. _ Like, I seriously doubt you’ll ever have to worry about indigestion ever again.” 

“What would be the point though?” Gerard asked. 

“Come on, just  _ bite it. _ ” Frank said, pushing the cone back towards Gerard, “I wanna see you sink those teeth into some _ vanilla bean.” _

“Well… _ okay. _ ” Gerard said, taking the cone and glancing around to make sure no one was looking. Frank couldn’t help but roll his eyes, because honestly, what would anyone even do? Everyone who had passed them on the street thus far was just as drunk as James. 

Gerard’s upper lip twitched as he sunk his teeth into the ice cream. His eyes flickered, darker suddenly. And okay, it was sort of creepy to watch Gerard prey, even if it was just fucking ice cream. 

“Yeah.  _ Kill it. _ ” Frank urged. 

Gerard pulled the cone away, line of melted white around his mouth. He wiped it off on the back of his hand. 

“There.” Gerard said timidly, handing the cone back over, eyes gradually lightening again, “Fuck. Okay I still get brain freezes apparently.” He pinched the bridge of his nose.  

Frank glanced down at the two deep holes in his ice cream where Gerard’s teeth had been. Fucking  _ weird.  _

“How was it?” Frank asked smugly.

“Flavorless.” Gerard offered, “Please don’t make me do it again.” 

“Checking ice cream off the list right now.” Frank promised. 

“There’s a  _ list? _ ” Gerard asked. 

“No. But I’m totally making one.” Frank informed. 

“Come on, there’s somewhere I wanted to take you.” Gerard frowned, pulling his keys out. 

“James, come on!” Frank called. 

“Seriously, distortion  _ last. _ ” James said to the guy before stumbling over to Frank and Gerard.

They piled into the car. Frank had a hard time buckling his seat belt with a fucking ice cream cone in his hand, and the smell of slaughtered, fried cow filled the small space, which sort of made his stomach turn. It was weird to think he used to enjoy eating burgers. 

“We’re not going far.” Gerard promised, not even bothering to buckle up. It wasn’t like he would even die in a car crash anyways, unless something went through his-

“Where are we going?” James asked, piercing Frank’s train of thought, loudly munching on his french fries. 

“Just to the park.” Gerard offered, starting the engine. 

 

It was a short drive. Within 5 minutes, Gerard was parking along the sidewalk outside of a property surrounded by a large hedge. He got out of the car and wandered over to the hedge, looking down the street both directions before pushing the thick branches out of the way. Frank had a little difficulty following. Getting out of the car with ice cream in one hand took some maneuvering. He nearly got it on the roof. Or, he sort of did, actually. He thumbed at the white line on the upholstered roof and ditched whatever was left of his cone in the gutter. 

James cursed somewhere behind him as he climbed out of the car, bag of food still crinkling in-hand. 

“Follow me.” Gerard instructed, beckoning for Frank to follow him. His eyes glistened in the streetlights. 

As soon as Frank pushed through the hedge, he realized it wasn’t a regular park. It was a  _ cemetery. _

“ _ Hollywood Forever. _ ” Gerard explained in a whisper, “Here, this way.” 

There was an incredible stillness. The kind Frank only found in graveyards. Sound didn’t carry the same. The shadows had an incredible _ opacity _ to them. 

Frank and James followed after Gerard silently, treading over the neatly cut grass. The tombstones went on and on, broken up by elaborate mausoleums and groves of palm trees. The grass was glistening with water from the sprinkler system. It had obviously recently shut off. The pathways were scattered with puddles. Frank’s sneakers were thoroughly soaked by the time Gerard paused in front of a grave and waved them over. 

“Dee Dee Ramone.” he explained. 

“Oh my  _ God. _ ” James hissed, dropping down to the wet grass, and laying over the grave. Frank wasn’t nearly drunk enough to go for it himself. The moment was lived vicariously through his bandmate. Dewees pulled his cheeseburger out of the bag and bit into it.

“Frankie I’m eating a fucking cheeseburger on Dee Dee Ramone’s grave right now.” James informed incredulously, words muffled by chewing, “And that dude back at the burger place knew  _ so much _ about pedals.”  

He set the burger down on the wax paper and fumbled around in his sweatshirt pocket, producing a sandwich baggie. 

“What the hell is that?” Frank asked. 

“Joint.” Dewees said, fishing the small white tube out of the bag, “It’s kinda bent but I think it’ll still burn okay.” 

He stuck the flat, slightly bent work of art between his lips and lit up. 

“Okay Frankie, now we’re _ smoking a blunt  _ on Dee Dee Ramone’s grave.” Dewees said smugly, exhaling smoke. 

“You mean  _ you are. _ ” Frank pointed out. He couldn’t help but glance around. Wouldn’t a place like this have security? It shouldn’t be so easy to break in.  

Dewees reached up to pass the joint to Frank. 

“No thanks.” Frank laughed. 

“Come on, Frankie.” James urged, “One hit.” 

“My anxiety, man.” Frank reminded weakly. 

“It’s not every weekend we’re in L.A., dude.” James reminded. 

“ _ Fine. _ ” Frank smirked, reaching for the joint and taking a hit. Anxiety totally didn’t work that way, but James was too drunk for an actual explanation. He also probably couldn’t be bothered with Frank’s speech on the difference between joints and blunts. Because there definitely was one. 

One hit wouldn’t kill Frank. Probably. Hopefully. Frank closed his eyes as he inhaled. 

He hadn’t smoked anything other than cigarettes in a while. The taste was still familiar enough. He was probably getting too old for this shit. Frank held his breath in for as long as he could as he passed the joint back down to James. Eventually he exhaled, watching the pot smoke disappear off through the graves, carried on the wind. 

Frank got a weird vibe almost immediately. He glanced over and realized Gerard was watching him. It was probably just Gerard’s weirdness throwing him off. Trespassing in a graveyard in the middle of the night with a loud, drunk Dewees on his hands wasn’t much help either. 

“Here, come on.” Gerard said, beckoning for Frank to follow. 

Gerard wandered into the shadows of an evergreen tree. Frank had to squint to follow his path through the low gravestones. Frank saw a dark purple bruise on his shin in his immediate future if he didn’t watch his step.  

“Can you like, see in the dark?” Frank asked, “Cause I have no idea where I’m going and the last thing I wanna do is trip over somebody’s-” 

Gerard reached for Frank’s hand, and Frank immediately shut the fuck up. The weed had kicked in. Frank shouldn’t be so buzzed off one hit but suddenly it felt like he felt all light and smiley. He tried to focus on adjusting his eyes to the darkness.

“Isn’t there like, security or something?” Frank asked to fill the silent stillness surrounding them. 

“Since when do you care?” Gerard scoffed, letting go of Frank’s hand as the graves thinned out. 

“Well… I can’t be your blood mule if they throw my ass in jail for trespassing.” Frank pointed out defensively. 

A streetlight on the other side of the hedge shone through the branches of the high pine tree, leaving the ground scattered with patches of orange, making it easier for Frank to see where they were going. The sprinklers didn’t reach over to this part of the graveyard. The grass was dry and dead. 

“Well, if it comes down to it, let me do the talking.” Gerard offered, “I can be  _ persuasive. _ ” 

A few rows of graves away James started to sing completely off key. 

_ Twenty Twenty Twenty Four Hours To Go! I WANNA BE SEDATED!  _

“...I’m gonna go shut him up.” Frank informed, turning to head back towards where they’d left James. 

Gerard grabbed Frank’s wrist before he got more than a few steps. 

“Don’t.” Gerard said, “He’s having a good time. I wanna watch this play out.” 

“But-” 

“If anyone comes, I’ll deal with it.” Gerard said, “I promise.”

Frank frowned, torn between being trying to appear chill and feeling really un-fucking-chill. 

“I’ll hear them coming a mile away anyways...” Gerard added soothingly, “We could scatter before they even started looking for us.” 

Gerard dropped to the ground and leaned against a tombstone. Frank sat beside him, dead grass poking through his skinny jeans.  

They had a perfect view of James from where they were sitting. He was splayed out, lazily blowing smoke into the sky, choking on the words to  _ I Wanna Be Sedated _ . 

“This is so much fucking better than what I was picturing in my head.” Gerard chuckled. 

“You’ve kinda outdone yourself.” Frank agreed, “I don’t think you have any idea how much he’ll fucking appreciate this if he remembers it.” 

“I think I might, actually.” Gerard said, “I remember the first time someone brought me here...” 

The thought made Frank a little sad. Sad and stoned was a bad combination. He didn’t want to think about Gerard in a graveyard late at night with anyone else, almost as much as he didn’t want to think about Gerard being dead. He didn’t really want to dissect what it meant to be jealous. A little jealousy was normal, he supposed. It came with the territory of ‘ _ loving someone with all your heart and then deciding to not love them anymore.’  _

They silently watched James wind down, singing slower and slower until he gave up in favor of finishing his burger. 

“Are you, um, seeing anyone?” Gerard asked quietly. 

“Huh?” Frank asked. 

When Frank turned to look at him he was _ close,  _ eyes bright in the patches of light from the streetlamps. Had he been this close the whole time? Frank’s heart did this stupid flip as Gerard stared at him.

“Are you  _ seeing _ anyone?” Gerard repeated, only slightly above a mumble this time, not bothering to make himself much clearer.

“Not right now.” Frank said, shaking his head a little, “Why?”

“Just curious.” Gerard said, “We haven’t kept in touch. For all I know you’re married now...”

“Not married.” Frank smiled, “I’ve been pretty focused on music.” 

Gerard was still staring at him. His eyes travelled between Frank’s eyes and his lips. He thought they might kiss. Gerard had more or less just asked for Frank’s fucking permission and Frank had handed it over. All Gerard had to do was lean in.

“How does that work, by the way?” Gerard asked instead, “Was kind of surprised when I saw you up there without a guitar in your hands. I can’t imagine what your writing process must look like...” 

Frank couldn’t tell if it was a subject change or if Gerard was genuinely interested, either way he welcomed it. He glanced back out at his bandmate as he spoke, breaking the staring contest. 

“I’ve been writing a lot. Like  _ writing. _ Like poems.” Frank said, struggling to get his voice to come out evenly, “Most of the actual music is James.”  

Across the graves, James sat up and glanced around. 

“Frank?  _ Gerard? _ ” He called out, “I swear to god if you brought me here so I could third-wheel your weird graveyard makeout stuff, I’m drowning you both in the hotel pool.” 

_ He isn’t entirely wrong, _ Frank thought. 

“There’s a pool!?” Gerard called back. 

“Yeah! You wanna go swimming?” James asked, turning his head in the direction of Gerard’s voice. 

Before Frank could protest, Gerard was already lifting himself off the grass and holding out a hand to help him up.

~

 

James was starting to crash. That much was obvious.  Even the most resilient party monster would start to crash by now. It wasn’t James’ fault. He was sprawled out across the back seat as they made their way across town, back to the hotel. Frank suspected mild heat stroke might be the nail in the coffin. 

Shit. He had to stop mentioning death so casually. Death was giving him a ride to the hotel, after all. He started to bite at his nails in penance.  

Gerard had rolled all the windows down to give James some air. The wind in Frank’s hair felt nice. 

“I’m so happy you guys are talking again.” James informed weakly, “Like, okay so…” 

Frank and Gerard were completely silent as they waited for James to continue.

“Yeah?” Frank prompted when he didn’t. 

“So, okay, if it comes down to it, I gotta back Frankie up.” James said, “I’ve always got Frank’s back, you know? Because like, we’re in a band and shit. No offense, Gerard.”

“None taken.” Gerard said, sounding mildly amused. 

“But Frank… _ listen,  _ Gerard fucking _ rules. _ ” James mused, “Seriously man, I’ve missed hanging out with you.” 

“I’ve missed you, too, James.” Gerard said, trying to glance at their friend in the rearview mirror. Emphasis on the  _ trying. _ Gerard had no reflection. 

“Jesus fucking  _ Christ _ .” Frank muttered under his breath. 

Gerard choked on a laugh, which startled Frank because he’d forgotten Gerard could hear everything so clearly, even through the turbulent air beating in through the windows.   

“I love you, Gerard.” James said, “You’re  _ the best. _ ” 

“I love you, too, man.” Gerard said, and it sounded like he meant it, too. When Frank glanced over, Gerard had a huge dopey grin on his face. It was sweet in a weird way. It made Frank’s heart do that stupid flip it had done too many times already. 

 

As soon as they were parked, James practically bolted from the car and dived right into the pool, clothing and all. He’d had the forethought to kick off his shoes before cannonballing into the neon blue abyss. Frank wished he could be so forward-thinking when he was  _ that  _ trashed. 

“Please tell me you know CPR.” Frank sighed, glancing at the ‘POOL HOURS’ sign on the fence. This definitely counted as an after hours swim, but it was too late now. 

“He’ll be okay.” Gerard promised, watching their friend doggy paddle around. “Look, he’s a strong swimmer.” 

Frank snorted. 

“Aren’t you guys gonna get in?” James called out, splashing around. 

“I didn’t bring a change of clothes.” Gerard offered. 

“You can borrow some of mine, Gee.” James panted. 

“ _ Tempting. _ ” Gerard grinned, “I’ll have to think about it.” 

Frank lit a cigarette to calm his nerves. He couldn’t explain why he was waiting for something terrible to happen, but he was. Weed and anxiety definitely weren’t helping anything.  

“You okay?” Gerard asked. 

“Yeah.” Frank said, “Fine. You want a smoke?” 

“I… don’t know?” Gerard mused, “I haven’t tried since… Well...” 

Frank handed his smoke over for Gerard to experiment with and sat on the edge of the nearest lounge chair. It creaked under his weight. The one beside him creaked as Gerard sat down too. 

Gerard coughed on the smoke the second he took a drag.  

“Huh.” he wheezed, glancing down at the cigarette. 

“Oh no.” Frank said nervously, eyeing Gerard.  

“ _ Wait. _ ” Gerard instructed, carefully taking another drag. This time it was much more graceful.

“Much better.” Gerard said, savoring the smoke as he exhaled. He handed the cigarette back to Frank. 

“You want one?” Frank offered again. 

“If you don’t want to share…” Gerard said. 

“No. Sharing’s fine.” Frank said, taking a drag. He tried to not think about how Gerard’s lips had touched the same place, how it was like indirectly kissing. 

Gerard was pretty in the blue glow of the pool lighting. The lines from the waves danced across his too-pale skin. He looked peaceful, contemplative. 

“So you can still smoke.” Frank commented, passing the cigarette back over.  

“Yeah.  _ Thank fucking God. _ ” Gerard said quietly, taking a drag.  

 

“I love L.A...” James said. He was floating on his back, looking up at the night sky. 

 

“I can’t remember the last time I was that kind of drunk.” Frank said, “You know, where you just fucking love everything?” 

“I can’t remember the last time I was drunk,  _ period _ .” Gerard said. 

“Oh.  _ Yeah. _ ” Frank said, turning his gaze back on Gerard, “How long has that been going on, by the way?” 

“Not long after we split, I guess?” Gerard said, “The first couple of times I tried… I relapsed pretty quick. But I figured it out.” 

“That’s… really good to hear.” Frank said, “I’m really happy for you.” 

“Me too.” Gerard smiled. It was a sad smile, “I just hate how much I had to lose to get to where I am now...” 

He wasn’t talking about Frank. Not entirely. Gerard had lost so much back in those days. Frank had watched it happen. Friends, Jobs, Money, Time,  _ Opportunities _ . 

“Nothing you can’t get back...” Frank said in an attempt to sound comforting. He hadn’t meant it like  _ that _ , but Gerard still gave him a quizzical look. 

“It’s a process.” Gerard sighed, handing the cigarette over, “Just like anything else…” 

James had swum to the far end of the pool and was holding onto the side, kicking his feet in the water. 

“Are  _ you _ seeing anyone?” Frank blurted. 

He was sure the blue light neutralized the blush that crept up his cheeks. 

“No.” Gerard said, “Why do you ask?” 

“You asked me.” Frank explained, shrugging, “I never asked you...” 

“Well, no.” Gerard repeated, “And I guess I won’t be now?” 

“Why not?” Frank asked. 

“The whole ‘ _ immortal bloodsucker _ ’ thing.” Gerard offered, “I wasn’t exactly ideal before. Everyone wants to meet for drinks and shit these days, you know? The whole  _ sober thing _ comes up pretty quick. Turns people off. But  _ now… _ ” 

“My mom’s already been giving me a hard time about settling down, too.” Gerard added, running a hand through his hair, “I took Lyn-Z to my family’s christmas party last year so Mom would shut the fuck up about it for five minutes...” 

“ _ That’s rough. _ ” Frank commiserated. 

“Tell me about it.” Gerard sighed. 

“Well, what about other vampires?” Frank asked, turning his face away to smile maniacally at himself as he realized he was giving his ex dating advice, “It’s not like you’re the only one. What about that guy who turned you?” 

“Something tells me he’s not trying to like, set me up on a blind date with his nice friend with a steady job and decent taste in music.” Gerard said. Frank could hear the smile in his voice.  

“I guess not.” Frank agreed, smiling too. 

“It’s okay.” Gerard said, “I’ll figure it out. I don’t expect you to figure this stuff out for me.”

“I’m just your blood mule.” Frank said. 

“Well no-” 

“I’m fucking with you.” Frank laughed, passing the cigarette back over. Gerard took another long drag. He closed his eyes to savor the smoke. 

Frank looked back over at Gerard, lost in their cigarette. He couldn’t seem to stop himself from leaning over and planting a chaste kiss to Gerard’s cheek. It was late enough that the part of Frank’s brain that moderated impulses had finally stopped working. If anyone asked, he’d blame it on the weed. 

As Frank pulled away Gerard’s eyes shot open. He seemed... surprised? But definitely not upset, which was a good sign. Or, _ good conditionally, _ if Frank’s intentions were to kiss Gerard again, for real, like he’d been thinking about since the graveyard. He considered Frank with a hard, unreadable stare. Frank thought the look would kill him, it was so intense. He needed Gerard to  _ say something _ , to absolve or condemn him for what he’d done. He held his breath. 

“You guys are cute.” James said from the edge of the pool, startling _ the shit  _ out of Frank, “But I’m getting thirsty and something tells me I shouldn’t drink the pool water.” 

Frank was so caught up in Gerard he hadn’t noticed that James had swum back to their side of the pool and was hugging the edge to keep himself out of the water. He’d probably seen the whole thing. Wow. Frank wanted to  _ die.  _

“Did you pee in the pool?” Gerard asked nonchalantly. 

“Maybe?” James said. 

“I don’t care if you did or not.” Gerard said, flicking the end of the cigarette onto the wet concrete, “But if you did, I don’t think you should drink it.”  

“But isn’t chlorine like… bad for you, though?” James asked. 

“Well, _ yes. _ ” Gerard agreed, “But it can’t be worse than half the things you drank tonight.” 

“That’s fair.” James said.

“Let’s get you to your room.” Gerard smiled. 

~ 

 

Frank watched in horror as James dripped onto the carpet the entire way up to their room. He’d had the forethought to take off his shoes, but they’d all forgotten about towels. Dewees carried the mostly-dry shoes in one hand. Frank couldn’t help but notice the way water slid down his arm and onto his shoes, defeating the whole purpose of having taken them off in the first place. 

Luckily, Dewees’ soaking wet keycard worked, because Frank had no fucking clue what he’d done with his. 

“I’m gonna shower.” James said, pulling off his soaking-wet shirt. It landed on the carpet with a sloshy, wet  _ thud _ . 

Frank nodded and sat down on the edge of the bed James hadn’t laid claim to. He felt the bed dip as Gerard sat beside him. 

It was well past three according to the clock on the bedside table, which meant it was past six in Jersey. Frank got up to reach for the remote on the TV stand and sat back down. He began vacantly flipping through channels. He could hear James singing to himself in the shower, which meant he wasn’t listening to them.   

“You don’t have to stay, you know.” Frank said. He felt like it needed to be said. 

“What if I want to?” Gerard asked easily. 

Frank glanced over at him, but immediately looked back at the TV. He couldn’t handle Gerard’s gaze. It had to be some vamp thing he was doing with his eyes. They were too pretty, too cruel.

“I’d like that.” Frank said eventually. 

He found the second half of  _ Friday the 13th _ playing on one of the movie channels. He was yawning as he let the remote drop to the carpet.

“Do you wanna, um…” Frank trailed off, kicking off his sneakers and crawling back onto the bed. 

“If it’s okay…” Gerard said, sliding out of his jacket and following suit. 

“No reason to put a perfectly good hotel bed to waste.” Frank blurted, in hopes it would make things less awkward as Gerard followed him. It seemed to have the opposite effect. 

It felt so surreal to have Gerard curl up beside him, even more so to have Gerard lean over him and turn out the light on the bedside table.

Gerard curled an arm around Frank’s middle and left it there, which shouldn’t have made Frank’s heartbeat accelerate so quickly, but, naturally, it did. He was only aware of it because he knew  _ Gerard  _ was aware of it. Frank stared up at the ceiling, watching the light from the TV flicker against the stucco. He tried to focus on breathing, on chilling out. 

“You okay?” Gerard asked quietly. 

“I kissed you.” Frank said to the ceiling. 

“You kissed me.” Gerard agreed blankly. 

“I wanted to.” Frank confessed, glancing over at Gerard.

Gerard propped himself up and leaned over Frank. As Frank gazed up at him there was a heart-stopping moment where he thought they might kiss for real. But as Gerard leaned in, his aim went a little lower. He pressed a single kiss to Frank’s neck. It was gentle and innocent, just as chaste as the kiss Frank had given Gerard at the poolside. 

As Gerard pulled away, it was like he’d lit a fire under Frank’s skin. The pressure of Gerard being sort of on top of him left him dying for something,  _ anything.  _ To be kissed and touched by someone who  _ remembered what he liked... _ Seriously, fuck James for putting that idea in his head. 

Gerard returned to Frank’s side and lazily snaked his arm around Frank’s middle again. Frank covered Gerard’s hand with his own, interlacing their fingers. 

“I thought you hated this movie?” Gerard asked, sort-of against Frank’s ear, causing a shiver to travel down his spine. 

“You think anything better is on?” Frank asked back. 

“I’m not paying attention anyways.” Gerard admitted, holding Frank a little tighter.  

Frank wanted to ask what he meant, even though he thought he sort of knew.

 

“ _ Gee… _ ” Frank trailed off, not really sure what he wanted to say.  _ Something.  _

 

The bathroom door opened and light spilled across the bed. Right. James. Maybe that was why Gerard had kept things so innocent. Frank had forgotten about James, or rather, that James probably didn’t want to walk in on them. He’d probably seen enough shit for one day. The bedsprings groaned as James collapsed onto the other bed. The smell of hotel soap filled the room. A warm shower sounded almost nice, if Frank wasn’t so exhausted. A cold shower was probably much more appropriate, though,  _ honestly.   _

“Goodnight you two.” James yawned. 

“Goodnight James.” Frank replied.

“Goodnight James.” Gerard seconded.  

Frank took a deep breath and directed his attention to the movie. 

“Don’t forget about the sunrise.” Frank warned sleepily, keeping his voice low. 

“I haven’t.” Gerard promised. Frank could hear the smile in his voice.  

Frank let out a deep yawn against his will. 

“You should sleep.” Gerard suggested, stroking his thumb over Frank’s thumb soothingly.  

“But-” Frank protested.  

“I don’t expect you to keep my schedule.” Gerard said, “The day is so much longer than the night. It’s hardly fair.” 

“It’s okay. I like naps.” Frank said. He tugged his hand free of Gerard’s and turned on his side to face the vampire. They stared at one another for a long time. It was hard to believe any of it was real. Frank’s ex was dead, but undead, too, and sober and hotter than ever. And of all the places he could be, he was right beside Frank, staring back at him, on a hotel bed in L.A.  Frank must’ve really fucking hit his head on that stage the other night.   

“You’re not tired at all, are you?” Frank asked. 

“It’s a good thing I’m not.” Gerard said, “Dangerous to fall asleep next to a window.”

“What happens if you go in the sun anyways?” Frank asked quietly. 

“I die, I think?” Gerard said, “I’m not eager to find out. The light burns my eyes… Even just to look at it.” 

Frank closed his eyes and tried to not think about Gerard dying, again. It was hardly a decent bedtime story. Then again, neither was  _ Friday, the 13th.   _

“Sweet dreams, Frank.” Gerard said. 

“Tomorrow… Blood? Coffins?” Frank yawned, “Anything I’m forgetting?” 

“Spend some times with James.” Gerard instructed, “I feel bad I’ve taken you away from him. I’ll text you the address to my favorite record store.” 

Frank smiled. James hated record stores, but that was okay, because Frank didn’t. 


	2. The Coffin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me tell you a bedtime story, kids. It's called 'just """""""friends.""""""" '

Frank woke to sunlight warming his face. He heard James retching in the bathroom. And on second thought, that was probably what had woken him up. He almost thought to reach for Gerard, but remembered quickly that the warm rays of sun streaming through the hotel room windows meant Gerard was long gone. Hopefully.

Frank sat up. Gerard hadn’t left a note or any indicators he’d been there at all. Frank hadn’t really expected him to. It wasn’t his style.

He felt around in his pockets until he found his phone and checked it. He had two texts from Gerard. The first said _ good morning _ , with an address to follow. Frank smiled, but immediately frowned at himself for smiling. The second read, “ _ pick you up at midnight? _ ” Frank frowned even more at the way his heart fluttered. A smile won him over pretty quick. 

While James took another shower in attempt to wash away his hangover, Frank called the airline to sort out his return flight, reading off the numbers on Gerard’s sparkly credit card to cover the fees. 

As soon as James was out of the bathroom, they went downstairs for continental breakfast. It took James all of five seconds to realize the hotel bar was already open and suggest a hair-of-the-dog mimosa. He came back with two full glasses. At least one of them had a little rockstar-lifestyle sense. It was mutually decided they would enjoy their mimosas by the pool. 

Dewees was the hungover one, but Frank looked more the part. Coffee in one hand, mimosa in the other. Through his huge shades, he frowned at group of kids splashing around with their parents at the far end of the pool. 

It was too bright out. The palm trees were too green. 

“This actually feels like a vacation right now.” James commented. 

“Does it?” Frank asked. 

James just laughed at him. 

Turning to scowl at his friend, Frank realized he maybe did need to lighten up a little. 

“How are you in a bad mood right now?” James asked fondly, “How is that  _ fucking possible _ , Frank?” 

“Did you actually pee in the pool?” Frank asked, changing the subject. 

“I don’t remember.” James said, sipping his drink, “Maybe. I fucking hope not.” 

Frank smirked then. 

“There we go.” James said, “That’s what I’m talking about.” 

“You ready to go to the record store?” Frank asked. 

“Like hell I am.” James frowned. 

“What if I buy lunch?” Frank suggested. 

“I guess.” James grumbled, taking a much longer sip of his mimosa. 

 

Frank was a little nervous about how he was supposed to slip off to get blood without a car or a real sense of butcher shops throughout the city. It wasn’t like he wanted to ask the hotel concierge for a list of butcher shops. He thought about it, but chickened as Dewees went up to them to ask for bus directions to Gerard’s record store recommendation. 

They could always go back to that 24-hour supermarket they’d gone to that first night, after the show. Gerard wouldn’t like it, but there were options if Frank couldn’t find blood before sundown.  

They took a bus across town, to the address Gerard had given Frank. It was conveniently across the street from a stop along the bus line. 

 

“I don’t think that’s a record store.” was the first thing James said as soon as they’d gotten off the bus. 

Frank stared blankly at the art gallery across the street. Definitely not a record store. 

“Come on, maybe we can ask them for directions.” James said, linking arms with Frank and pulling him across the street. 

“You know how I feel about coming across as a _ tourist. _ ” Frank grumbled. 

“Shut  _ the fuck _ up.” James laughed, “That’s exactly what you are, record-fucker.”

“Vinyl is not for _ fucking _ , James.” Frank informed, “Well, no, it totally can be. But you don’t fuck it. You fuck  _ to _ it. There’s a  _ difference.” _

“You’re the expert.” James sing-songed. 

 

The place was air conditioned, which dissuaded Frank from protesting any further. 

Frank glanced around at the walls as James headed for the desk to ask for directions. 

“ _ Good afternoon. _ ” James said, which made Frank look over, because James only used that tone of voice on  _ hot girls. _ .. 

He immediately recognized the woman at the desk. It was Gerard’s  _ agent. _

“Was wondering if you could help us out with directions?” James went on.

Gerard’s agent looked deeply uninterested, she glanced over at Frank and her expression immediately changed. 

“Oh, hello!” she said, getting up from her desk and walking over to Frank, heels on her boots clicking against the polished floor. 

“Lyn-Z, hey!” Frank smiled, “Uh, Gerard said he was gonna give me the address to a  _ record store _ he really liked. This is obviously...  _ not it _ .” 

“ _ That man... _ ” She sighed, shaking her head, “He’s always giving me the wrong fucking information, I swear. The other day he gave me the direct number for his therapist instead of some art dealer. Interesting guy. Just, not interested in buying fine art.” 

Frank laughed, glancing back at the painting in front of him. It looked like human teeth in a pool of blood, spreading out across white bathroom tiles. 

The next painting looked just as bloody at first glance. It was all a little too _ obvious  _ for Death Spells, but it was definitely album art material. Someone had to get in touch with the artist. It belonged on an album cover if it wasn’t already. 

“These are really cool.” Frank said, taking in the gore in the next painting, “Are they all by the same artist?”   

“Yeah, they’re all Gerard.” Lyn-Z snorted, gesturing a hand towards the rest of the room.  

“Wait, really?” Frank asked, raising an eyebrow at her.  

“Yup.” She nodded. 

“No shit.” Frank said, moving on to look at the next piece.  

“So you drive his car, but you don’t recognize his art when you see it?” she asked with a smirk, “How did you say you know him again?” 

“They used to date.” James offered helpfully, earning a scowl from Frank. 

“And  _ you are? _ ” she asked, turning to give James a once-over. 

“The other half of Frank’s band.” James said, gesturing towards Frank, “Used to be a friend of Gerard’s, too.”

“I see…” Lyn-Z said. 

“Not in the same way he and Frank were friends.” James clarified, holding his hands up, “ _Just_ _friends._ ” 

“This is all starting to make sense.” She said, glancing between the two of them. 

“I haven’t seen his work in… I guess  _ years _ at this point?” Frank mused, walking over to the next piece on the wall, “Now that you mention it, it sort of looks like his stuff. His style’s changed a lot…” 

“It’s definitely out of his comfort zone.” Lyn-Z tutted, ”These pieces were commissioned by a local theatre troupe that does adaptations of classic horror. They asked for photo-realism. He took on th project because he likes…  _ red. _ ” 

Frank smiled. Lyn-Z had  _ no fucking idea _ . He glanced around the room, as if it were possible to take in all of Gerard’s pieces at once. 

“They’re on break for the summer and wanted a new round of pieces for their winter series, so we’re selling these ones.” Lyn-Z explained, “I’m sorry you got turned around, though. I’ve learned to double-check whenever Gerard gives me phone numbers, addresses…” 

“I don’t know why I didn’t think of that?” Frank mused, “Jetlag, maybe?” 

Dewees snorted. And fine,  _ Jetlag, and barely sleeping to stay up and hang out with his ex.  _ Frank glared at him.

“I have to go run some errands in a little while.” Lyn-Z said, eyeing James, “But I’d be happy to give you a ride somewhere if you don’t mind waiting around a little. I’m expecting a potential buyer in about twenty.” 

“That would be great.” James said.

“Would you mind if I used your computer to check my e-mail real quick?” Frank asked, realizing he still had a coffin to buy, “I left my laptop at Gerard’s place.” 

“Not at all,  _ Frank. _ ” she said, giving him a once-over as she clearly annunciated his name. She gave him this grin like she **_still_ ** thought he was fucking Gerard. 

“Thanks.” Frank said, feigning obliviousness. He wandered over to her desk. 

“Password’s, ‘ _ ihategerard _ .’” she informed, “No capitals, no spaces.” 

Frank smiled at her as he punched it in. That particular keystroke pattern was  _ way _ too familiar under his fingertips. 

“So is Gerard the only artist you work for?” James asked conversationally as Frank got into his e-mail through the web browser. 

“Sort of.” she said, “He sometimes has me take on projects to help smaller artists get set up. I’m good at organizing gallery spaces…” 

Frank tuned them out as he read through his new e-mails. He’d gotten a few e-mails back from a few of the posters, looking to set up times. Most of them didn’t want Frank to come by until the middle of the week so he wasn’t sure where to start. He wanted to get it knocked out as soon as possible, in order to shorten his stay. Maybe these things took time though? Frank hadn’t exactly tried to get his hands on a real coffin before. Especially not through shady internet posts. 

“So who broke up with who?” Lyn-Z asked from across the room. When Frank looked up she was looking right at him. 

“ _ Um _ …” Frank faltered. 

“He ripped Gerard’s heart out.” James offered, “It was pretty brutal, actually.” 

“Wow, you’re a  _ monster. _ ” Lyn-Z joked, pretending to look shocked. 

“I did  _ not. _ ” Frank argued, “It was _ mutual. _ ”  

“Breaking up with someone while they’re still in the ICU is a pretty low blow. But Gerard deserved it.” James said, then turned to Lyn-Z, “ _ Sort of _ . It’s complicated.”

“Fucking sounds like it.” Lyn-Z nodded, “Sorry I asked.”  

“It’s all good.” James said, Frank nodded in agreement, “They’ve  _ made amends. _ Anyways, you were saying about your mailing list?” 

Frank could hear the implications behind those words. He looked back down at his inbox, trying to hide the blush that crept over his face. Kissing Gerard on the cheek one time hardly seemed like  _ making amends _ in the grand scheme of things, but James didn’t know the half of it. 

 

_ i’ll give it to you for $50 if you can get it the fuck out of our warehouse by tomorrow. i can even get my son in law to deliver it, as long as you give me an address in the city. _

 

“Perfect.” Frank said, reading over the e-mail a few times. He punched in the number the guy had provided to text and confirm that, _ yes,  _ he wanted that coffin delivered to his creepy mansion in the hills by sundown. It was too easy. The coffin was coming to  _ them _ . 

Frank made a point to sign out of his e-mail so Lyn-Z couldn’t do any snooping, not that there was anything good in there anyways. The most revealing thing in his inbox was an e-mail from the pharmacy closest to his apartment, letting him know his antidepressants were ready for pick-up at his earliest convenience.

“What was he in the hospital for?” Lyn-Z asked.  

“ _ Overdose. _ ” James explained. 

“Hey, you got Gerard’s home address?” Frank interrupted. 

“ _ You _ don’t?” Lyn-Z asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Well like, I could drive there, but I couldn’t mail a letter…” Frank explained, “I know where it is but not like,  _ where it is _ .” 

“What’s  _ up, _ Frankie?” James asked, giving Frank a look to suggest he wasn’t making any fucking sense. 

“Gerard wants a coffin.” Frank started, then paused, earning a bewildered look from both Dewees and Lyn-Z. 

“Some… art thing? I don’t know.” Frank explained, “I’m scheduling to have a coffin delivered to his house. I need an address.”  

James looked thoroughly unperturbed, as did Lyn-Z. Either Frank was a good liar, or Gerard’s artistic macabre bullshit had saved both of their asses. 

“It should be on a post-it dead in front of you.” Lyn-Z said. When Frank glanced down he found a handwritten address scribbled onto a small doodle of a tombstone. 

“Where is Gerard today anyway?” Lyn-Z asked. 

Frank just shrugged, trying his best to not appear visibly offended that everyone was just going to assume Frank knew where Gerard was from now on. Even if he did. 

By the time Frank had finished making arrangements to have the coffin delivered to Gerard’s place by early evening, Lyn-Z had put James to work stuffing envelopes. Frank rolled his eyes. 

“Just… keep the language P-G?” Lyn-Z requested quietly, as a gentleman in a turtleneck wandered into the gallery. Lyn-Z turned to greet him. 

“Hi! Nice to see you again!” She said, putting on a polite, inviting tone of voice, “Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea?”  

Frank tuned them out and glanced back over at Gerard’s paintings. It was totally surreal to see his ex’s work framed and hung in a well-lit gallery space, instead of propped against a wall in a dark basement. Gerard deserved to be a successful artist, after everything he’d put into it. He’d always said he wanted to get into comics, but this had to be a close second. Gerard deserved anything he fucking wanted.

“These are my assistants,” Lyn-Z explained, “James, and Frank.” 

Frank smirked at her, and James waved to the guy from where he was sitting on the floor, folding pieces of paper into thirds. 

As Frank waited for their meeting to be over, he got down on the floor and started helping James with the mailing list, putting stamps on each envelope so they could get through it faster. James was stuffing little business cards with pictures of Gerard’s paintings into them. Curse James and his constant need to impress girls. 

By the time Lyn-Z was done with the guy, they had a whole mountain of letters ready to go out. 

“Damn. Thanks for clearing my afternoon.” Lyn-Z said, eyeing the stacks.

~

 

Lyn-Z ended up closing the gallery and driving the three of them over to Gerard’s place. They skipped the record store in favor of getting to the house faster to meet the coffin. They were all too curious about it. They picked up thai food and beer on the way, for a late lunch and early day drinking. 

Lyn-Z drove a shiny red car, with skull-shaped air fresheners and loud, punk music; and she drove it _ fast.  _ Frank pretty instantly understood why Gerard liked her, as if her understanding of La Dispute hadn’t  _ already _ been enough to make Frank like her.  

As they pulled into Gerard’s driveway and parked next to Gerard’s car, it occurred to Frank that he didn’t have a key to the house. 

“Looks like Gerard’s here.” Lyn-Z commented, “Or, his car is anyways. Is Mikey still out of town?” 

“I think so.” Frank answered, and immediately hated himself for it. Now he was credible for the locale of not just one, but  _ two _ Ways.

The three of them got out of the car with their takeout and the beer, and headed up to the front door. 

Lyn-Z rang the doorbell. Frank wasn’t sure what his face was doing. He hadn’t thought this through properly. What face were you supposed to make when you had to pretend you didn’t know your ex boyfriend was, in fact, home, and also  _ a vampire fast asleep in his basement? _ After a good minute or so Lyn-Z turned towards Frank. 

“Are you sure you don’t know where he is?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“No idea.” Frank shrugged, trying to keep his voice even. 

“It’s just… I have a key, but I don’t wanna like, walk in on him doing something weird.” Lyn-Z explained. 

“I don’t think that’ll be an issue.” Frank said.

“Speak now or forever hold your peace.” Lyn-Z said, sliding her key into the lock. 

“Why do you have that?” James asked, as she pushed the front door open. 

“He gave it to me for emergencies.” Lyn-Z said, “Like, you know, art theft…. Stashing bodies…” 

The three of them filed into Gerard’s pitch black living room. Frank was pleased to see the blackout curtains working. 

“Fuck, it’s fucking _ dark  _ in here.” Lyn-Z said, “What the fuck?” 

“I stopped trying to understand Gerard a long time ago.” James commented, squinting as Lyn-Z pulled the curtains open. Frank silently prayed Gerard wouldn’t try to come upstairs. He wasn’t sure he could handle watching his ex-boyfriend burn up in the sun - not after the way his weekend had been going. 

 

The three of them set up camp in Gerard’s living room and dug into their take-out while they waited. Frank and Lyn-Z took the couch. Dewees sprawled out on the floor, where he found the TV remote and put on cartoons. It felt surprisingly comfortable to invade Gerard’s space with the two of them. He wasn’t entirely sure how Dewees could stand to have a beer in his hand after last night, but he decided not to question it.

“Gerard told me he used to have a drug problem.” Lyn-Z said thoughtfully, “I didn’t realize it was like, life-threatening, relationship-destroying… He never mentioned that part. How exactly did you get from like, dumping him in a hospital bed to driving his car again?” 

“I had a problem, too, it wasn’t just him.” Frank defended gently, pushing his food around. 

“I stopped trying to understand them a long time ago. You’d be doing yourself a favor if you did, too.” James offered, chewing on a bite of curry, “They used to break up and get back together all the time. I was pretty sure last time was like,  _ the actual last time. _ But I’ve been wrong before.” 

“This isn’t like the other times.” Frank said, “It’s different.” 

“It didn’t look different when you were sucking face by the pool last night.” James pointed out smugly, not tearing his eyes away from the TV. 

Lyn-Z made an amused noise. 

Frank glared at his bandmate. He’d kissed Gerard _ once. On the fucking cheek.  _

“What did you mean by  _ ‘different? _ ’ Do you mean you think you’ll like, stay together this time?” Lyn-Z asked. 

Frank choked on the bite of food he was trying to swallow. He punched at his chest a few times to get it to go down. 

“I don’t know. We haven’t talked about it.” Frank struggled, clearing his throat, “He lives so fucking far away right now...”  

“My bad.” Lyn-Z said.

“Long distance never really worked for us.” Frank explained, “Back when we were together, I was always on tour. Different cities, different time zones. He’d always call me all fucked up.” 

Frank set his takeout box down on the coffee table and reached for the beer in James’ hand. This was bringing up all kinds of fucked up emotions Frank wasn’t ready for. 

“Like, I’m not sure what’s worse...” Frank sighed, “Getting a call from the person you love and they’re in the hospital having their stomach pumped? Or having them call you in the middle of the night and they have no idea where the fuck they are or who they’re with or what they took? It was just  _ too much. _ I was sick of worrying about him all the time.” 

“I mean, I didn’t know where I was or who I was with half the time either, I guess?” Frank backtracked, “But every time he ended up in the hospital I’d have to find a way to come home from tour. Cause what kind of person would I be if I didn’t? And that really fucked things up for my band. And it was  _ my band.  _ I wrote the songs, so I called the shots. But at some point, I was just letting a bunch of people down and making excuses. It was a fucking  _ mess. _ ” 

“But he’s clean now.” Lyn-Z observed, “And so are you. So it’s  _ different. _ ” 

“Sort of.” Frank sighed.   

They weren’t actually back together like James thought they were, but it actually felt good to talk to someone other than James, his mom, or his therapist about it, even if he and Gerard weren’t going to be getting back together. James already knew the long version of this history lesson. He’d been there. He’d been the keyboardist in the band Gerard’s drug problem had secondarily ruined. 

Frank took a long swig of James’ beer. 

“Where’s this fucking coffin?” Frank asked miserably, passing the bottle back to James. He wanted to get drunk now, but he didn’t want to be drunk when the coffin showed up. How was his life so fucking ridiculous? This was what he got for leaving Jersey. 

He picked up his takeout and took another bite, chewing a bite of eggplant angrily. 

“I guess I haven’t known him as long as you have…” Lyn-Z said, “But he’s… a really good guy, Frank.  _ Stupid. _ But genuine, and sweet. I’ve never met anyone like him.”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.” Frank said. 

~ 

 

Frank heard a struggling engine in the driveway. It got closer and closer to the house, and then stopped. He nodded to Lyn-Z, made eye contact with James, and lifted himself off the couch. The three of them slipped out the front door. The sun was low on the horizon, casting everything in an orangey glow. An old pickup truck was parked behind Lyn-Z’s car, with a coffin tied down the the bed. A guy in a cowboy hat and a stained button-up climbed out of the front seat and walked around the front of the truck, cowboy boots clicking on the driveway. 

“‘You Frank?” the guy asked, looking Frank up and down, then gazing at the other two behind him.

“That’s me.” Frank nodded, shaking the guy’s hand and following him towards the back of the truck. 

“Might need some help getting it out of the bed, but I brought a dolly so we could move it pretty easily.” the guy explained, “Manpower might be easier, honestly, since we got some help. Was there somewhere in particular you wanted to put it?” 

“I guess just uh… in my living room?” Frank said, taking in the coffin. It was wider than Frank thought it should be. The exterior was shiny and black, covered in dust from being out on the road. 

“Alrighty.” The guy said, lowering the tailgate. Frank climbed into the bed of the truck and slid his hands along the end of the thing, looking for somewhere to grab on. 

“Handle might be easiest.” Cowboy Hat offered. 

“Oh. Duh.” Frank said, eyeing the metal handle dead in the center of the paneling. He wrapped his fingers around it tightly and took a deep breath.  

James and Cowboy Hat stood around the other side, mumbling an agreed upon arrangement. 

“Alright pal, you push, we pull.” Cowboy Hat said, “Slowly, now.” 

Frank nodded and started easing the coffin off the back of the trucks cab. It was lighter than he thought it might be. He glanced over at Lyn-Z, standing off to the side, watching with amusement. 

After the first foot of space cleared, Frank maneuvered behind the coffin and started walking it off of the truck. The had to stop when he got to the end of the bed, so he could jump down and walk it the rest of the way off. 

“Would you be a doll, and hold the door open for us?” Cowboy Hat asked. 

“Only if you promise to never fucking call me a ‘doll’ ever again.” she said neutrally, sliding her bangs out of her face and turning towards the house. 

With the three of them to share the weight, carrying it up to the house wasn’t much work. It would’ve been much harder if James hadn’t been there to help. 

They had to turn it on it’s side to get it through front door. They went slow, so as not to scuff the surface, not that Gerard would’ve cared. Frank nearly tripped on Gerard’s welcome mat, nearly got a faceful of coffin. 

Lyn-Z pulled Gerard’s coffee table out of the way so they could set it down in front of the couch. She moved it slowly so as not to tip over the half-empty beer bottle on the corner. 

Frank was sufficiently out of breath by the time they dropped the fucking thing. 

“This seems sort of… _ big _ for a coffin?” Frank observed. 

“It’s a two person coffin. Intended for a couple.” Cowboy Hat said, “And a baby. Didn’t you read the posting?” 

“I responded to a lot of posts, I guess I didn’t really read all the way through…” Frank admitted. 

“That’s not gonna be a problem, is it?” Cowboy Hat asked, raising an eyebrow, “I wasn’t gonna ask what you intended to do with the damn thing.” 

“No. This is perfect.” Frank said, reaching into his back pocket and handing over the cash, “More than perfect, actually. Thank you so much.” 

“You wanna open her up and make sure for me?” Cowboy Hat asked, pocketing the cash.  

“Uh…  _ sure. _ ” Frank said, circling the coffin and looking for the mechanism. Shouldn’t there be a latch, or a-

“Here let me show you…” the guy offered, “We had this thing in the warehouse so long… Curiousity got the best of me…” 

He pulled the coffin open, revealing the inside. It was much more macabre than it probably needed to be. Frank immediately knew Gerard would love it. Black exterior, red satin interior. 

“To my knowledge it’s an authentic coffin. Like, the kind they actually bury folks in.” Cowboy Hat said, “It was never claimed by the original buyer though. I can have them email more information to you, if you’d like it. Since it’s been in our care it’s just been used in films, rented out to parties a few times. Hasn’t been touched in awhile, and we’re trying to downsize so…” 

“Have them email me.” Frank said, “Please. That would be great.” 

“So… you’re all good then?” Cowboy Hat asked. 

“Yes. More than good.” Frank grinned, “Thank you so much.” 

“No problemo.” Cowboy Hat said, heading for the door. 

Frank almost wanted to offer the guy a glass of water, but he could feel James and Lyn-Z’s questions silently piling up behind him. He walked Cowboy Hat to the door, and even waved to him once he’d gotten back into his truck. 

 

“So, this isn’t like a sex thing right?” James asked, as soon as the truck’s roaring engine had started to fade down the driveway. 

Lyn-Z spat out a laugh, like she’d sort of tried to stop it from coming out, but given up. 

“Thank you so much for asking, James.” she laughed, “I didn’t want to be the one to ask.” 

“It’s not a sex thing, you fucking freaks.” Frank said, glaring at James. He was fighting to stay offended as he watched James climb in and lay down. Lyn-Z crawled in beside him. James crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes.

“Don’t hate me for assuming...” James said, eyes still closed, “You two disappeared off into the cemetery last night and left me to mourn Dee Dee all by myself.” 

There was a little too much color in his cheeks, but otherwise James looked almost…  _ dead.  _

“Nothing happened.” Frank said, “We could see you the whole time.”  

“What graveyard?” Lyn-Z asked. 

“Hollywood Forever.” Frank answered. 

“Ah, yeah. Gee loves that one.” Lyn-Z said, glancing over at James and mimicking his pose. She crossed her arms over her chest and breathed in deeply, letting her eyes flutter closed. 

“How’s it feel?” Frank asked, looking down at them, “You both look so... ready to be buried.”

“It’s pretty comfortable honestly.” James offered, “I wouldn’t complain if you buried me right now, Frankie.”   

“There’s definitely enough room in Gerard’s back yard for a few graves.” Frank joked, “Maybe he could section it off and sell the plots for extra cash?” 

“ _ Hollywood Forever part two.” _ James agreed. 

“Sounds like a bad scary movie.” Lyn-Z commented. 

She well and truly  _ had no fucking idea,  _ Frank thought. 

~ 

 

Frank stirred when he felt someone tapping on his shoulder. He hadn’t meant to pass out. He’d just had one too many beers after Lyn-Z had suggested that stupid fucking drinking game and then he’d laid down on the couch and... The smell of coffee drove him to open his eyes. Gerard’s living room was dark. Frank couldn’t tell if the curtains were just closed or if the sun had gone down. 

“Hey.” Gerard said, which meant the sun was probably down. 

“Hey.” Frank said, sitting up slowly, blanket pooling in his lap. He wiped at his eyes. His head throbbed painfully. 

He’d apparently fallen asleep in the coffin. That much was obvious. Gerard was sitting on the couch across from him, watching him curiously. The last time Frank had seen Gerard, he was curled up next to him on a hotel bed. Now he seemed entirely too far away. Frank wasn’t sure if he was allowed to ask for Gerard to come closer.

His neck was stiff from falling asleep in a weird position. He rubbed at his sore muscles and blinked at Gerard.

“I’m really sorry to wake you.” Gerard said, “It’s just… I needed to fucking  _ talk to somebody _ . I’m going kinda crazy all by myself.” 

Gerard gestured a hand towards the coffin where the coffee table used to be.

“Where’s James?” Frank asked, furrowing his brow, “Lyn-Z?”  

“They wanted to go to some gallery launch party.” Gerard explained, “They decided you needed some shut eye...” 

“Oh… Shit. Did  _ you _ wanna go?” Frank asked. 

“Not really. I still hate going out. That hasn’t changed.” Gerard smiled, “But we can if you want to.” 

“Okay.” Frank said, “Maybe. Did you uh… did you make  _ coffee? _ ” 

“Yeah. You want some?” Gerard asked, face lighting up. 

“I do actually, but why-?” Frank faltered. 

“I made it for you. Was kind of hoping it would wake you up, so I wouldn’t have to. But I guess your sense of smell doesn’t work like mine.” Gerard shrugged, “How’s the coffin? I gotta say I like it much better than the fucking coffee table.” 

“Surprisingly comfortable.” Frank yawned, “And definitely more useful than a coffee table. I might have to get one for my place...”

Gerard’s expression wavered as he considered Frank. 

“Seriously. Get in.” Frank said, scooting over to make room for Gerard. His heart fluttered as Gerard did exactly as he said without a word. 

And then Gerard was close, just like Frank needed him. He held his breath as Gerard made himself comfortable on the padded satin beside Frank. Gerard laid out on his side, facing Frank. His dark eyes were huge and consuming. Frank felt drawn in by the complexity of their color. 

“Pillows…” Frank commented out loud, though mostly to himself, adding it to his mental shopping list. 

“Pillows.” Gerard agreed, “Red. To match.” 

He reached over to the couch and plucked a pillow off. He handed it to Frank, and grabbed one for himself.

“I was thinking we should throw a little funeral for me.” Gerard said, resting his head against his overstuffed pillow, “I died so I deserve a party right? Dying and not getting a party feels like a bit of a rip off.” 

“I thought you hated parties.” Frank pointed out. 

“I do.” Gerard said, “I still want one though.” 

“A wake would be pretty boring.” Frank said, “You’d have to just lay here while everyone drunkenly cried for like,  _ hours. _ ” 

“A party where I get to lay down the whole time while everyone cries over me?” Gerard mused, “And everyone’s wearing black? I think I’ve been doing birthday parties wrong this whole time…” 

“ _ Gerard. _ ” Frank complained. 

“Not everyone gets to have a birthday on Halloween.” Gerard argued, “Some of us have to actually  _ work _ for our macabre birthday party atmospheres...” 

“Well, where do you think you wanna put it?” Frank asked, rolling his eyes. 

“The party?” Gerard asked, “I don’t know. We could have it here. We could have it at the gallery…” 

“I meant the  _ coffin. _ ” Frank snorted. 

“Oh, this? Probably in the basement?” Gerard said, “I don’t know. What were you thinking?” 

Gerard closed his eyes and relaxed against the satin. Frank felt weird for staring, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away. 

“Maybe in your studio.” Frank said, “You could shorten your walking distance between your bed and the canvas.” 

“Maybe if I can find some way to make it light-tight in there…” Gerard offered, “What if I wake up in the middle of the day and open it and...? Actually how do we make sure the coffin’s light-tight?” 

“Basement for now.” Frank agreed. 

Gerard hummed thoughtfully.

“How’s uh… how’s all the vamp stuff going anyways?” Frank asked conversationally, “Birthday parties aside.”  

“I don’t know.” Gerard said, furrowing his brow, “All things considered I think I’m coping pretty well, don’t you? I’m wondering if maybe it just hasn’t hit me yet. The whole ‘being dead’ thing, I mean.” 

“Yeah?” Frank asked. 

“Yeah.” Gerard said, “Honestly? It’s kind of depressing. I basically just can’t go outside when everyone else is awake. There’s no one to talk to… It’s not anything like it is in comic books.”

“Is anything the way it is in comic books?” Frank asked skeptically. 

“I mean… I guess not.” Gerard agreed. 

“You get to live forever.” Frank pointed out, “ _ Probably.  _ If you avoid stakes. And you can literally control minds also. No more fighting with Mikey for the remote.”

Gerard smiled sadly at that. 

“Does he know?” Frank asked, “About…”  

“Yeah.” Gerard said, “He thought…  _ God, _ he thought I’d fallen off the wagon at first, when I tried to tell him. Which wouldn’t be totally out of the realm of possibility, given my track record, right? I guess that also would’ve been easier to fix than… well,  _ this. _ ” 

Frank frowned sympathetically. 

“He was pretty fucking upset.” Gerard added. His teeth had slid out, slightly altering the way he spoke,

Frank stared at the sharp white points, just barely poking out from under his upper lip. He wasn’t even afraid of them anymore, just curious. He wondered if they hurt when they came out. 

“Sorry. I haven’t eaten yet.” Gerard admitted, reaching up to touch one of his fangs, “I don’t know if it’s like _ , polite _ to tell you this, but you smell _ really good _ ...” 

“Like in a... _ food  _ sort of way?” Frank asked.

“ _ Sort of. _ ” Gerard said hesitantly, “It’s more complicated than that. But yeah.” 

“I mean… if you wanted to bite me…” Frank trailed off, “I’d be open to, um,  _ experimenting. _ ” 

“You said you wanted coffee, right?” Gerard asked, immediately changing the subject. Frank had caught a glimpse of the look that crossed Gerard’s face before he turned away. Gerard might’ve blushed if he’d had the blood to spare. 

He was climbing out of the coffin and out of the room before Frank could even speak again.

Frank felt like they’d been having a moment. Or, about to have a moment. He sighed as he tried to listen for where Gerard had run off to. Frank stared up at the coffin lid, propped open by the supports. Not only was Gerard incredibly fast, he was also, obviously, incredibly quiet. Fucking vampires. 

The microwave gave him away. Frank heard the door pop open, heard the beeps as Gerard pressed buttons. 

Frank climbed out of the coffin - with much less grace. Gerard had made it look so effortless. Frank, on the other hand, nearly somersaulted right into the couch when his foot connected with the side of the coffin on his way out. 

By the time Frank had gotten to the kitchen, Gerard had gotten two mugs down. He poured coffee into one, and blood from the container out of the fridge into the other. The mug with blood in it was popped into the microwave. 

“Cream? Sugar?” Gerard asked. 

“I got it.” Frank said, reaching for the sugar. 

“I meant to say thank you, first.” Gerard said, watching Frank concoct his midnight cup of coffee, “I was kind of distracted by…  _ the coffin. _ It’s perfect. Seriously. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Frank said in earnest, “I’m glad you like it.”  

He was quiet, trying to feel Gerard out. Gerard stared into the microwave, watching the mug make it’s rotations. His eyes had darkened even more. 

“Are you… okay?” Frank asked.

“Yeah.” Gerard said immediately, “It’s just…” 

Frank waited patiently, savoring the smell of his coffee. He set his mug down and got himself a glass of water, realizing he’d mostly drank beer in his hours before passing out in the coffin. That explained the headache.  

“It really doesn’t bother you that I’m dead?” Gerard asked bluntly, “That I’m like this?”  

“ _ Well… _ ” Frank faltered, taken aback, “I mean obviously I wish you weren’t…  _ Dead. _ ” 

The microwave beeped. Frank watched as Gerard quickly pulled the mug out and started slugging the blood down. He set his empty mug on the counter, eyes black, and poured himself a second cup.

“I guess I don’t understand what you’re asking.” Frank admitted, watching Gerard slide his mug into the microwave for a second cup, “ _ Of course  _ it bothers me, but it doesn’t…  _ change anything.  _ You’re still  _ you. _ ”  

It was sort of ironic to say it into the face of a monster. Gerard wiped his mouth off on the back of his hand, but he was still a mess of bloody lips and black eyes. His hair was wilder than usual because he hadn’t smoothed it down in a mirror since he’d woken up a vampire. Frank knew well enough that Gerard had probably forgotten he even _ owned  _ a hairbrush. 

“I’m still me.” Gerard agreed with a small nod. 

 

They took their mugs back into the living room. 

Frank held both mugs while he explained how to close the coffin’s lid properly. The top of the coffin was fucking heavy, but the way Gerard handled it made it look feather-light. Frank sat on the couch as he watched Gerard try to figure out how to close it gently. It still slammed shut with a loud  _ click! _

_ “ _ Good work.” Frank said.

He lifted a mug up to his lips.  _ Wrong mug. _ He almost sloshed the blood onto his t-shirt. He rested the mug of blood on the arm of the couch and raised the mug of coffee up to his face to block out the smell of warm blood. Couldn’t Gerard drink his blood out of fucking wine glasses or something? 

 

Gerard dropped down on the couch beside Frank to rescue his warm blood. He shot Frank a guilty smile as he took a sip. 

“It even doubles as a coffee table...” Gerard observed, setting his on top of the coffin, “This is  _ amazing, _ Frank. I don’t know what the fuck I’d do without you. I’d be thirsty and coffinless and fucking _ bored... _ ” 

“You’re tough.” Frank waved him off, “You died without my help. Why wouldn’t you be able to handle the rest?”  

Gerard reached for the remote and flipped on the TV. After flipping through a few channels, he found a subtitled samurai movie playing and dropped the remote again. 

 

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do when you leave.” Gerard said hesitantly, “It’s gonna be hard to like, meet people from now on. I was thinking about that earlier.”

“Mikey will be here.” Frank pointed out, aiming at comforting, “It’ll be different.” 

“I know.” Gerard agreed with a heavy sigh, “It still sucks. I’d kinda finally stopped clinging to him all the fucking time.” 

“You’re the coolest person he’s ever met.” Frank soothed, “He’d _ die  _ if you stopped clinging to him.”  

They were both distracted as a fight scene broke out. Swords clinked. Blood splattered everywhere. 

“Have you considered moving somewhere less…  _ sunny? _ ” Frank asked. 

“I can’t just _ leave. _ ” Gerard said, like he’d thought about it already, “My whole life is here...” 

“I just don’t know how you’re going to hide this from Lyn-Z forever.” Frank said, “She’s…  _ nosy. _ By the way, I think you have an appointment with her on Thursday. _ Afternoon. _ ” 

“Fuck. What am I gonna  _ do? _ ” Gerard groaned, “Can’t you just show her my stuff?”

“I can.” Frank nodded. 

“That’s not a permanent solution. I know.” Gerard grumbled. 

“You could just tell her and then mind-control her to accept it?” Frank pointed out, “That’s if she’s even freaking out in the first place. I didn’t freak out. Maybe she won’t either.” 

“I don’t know if it works like that.” Gerard said hesitantly. 

“We could try to find you other vampires?” Frank suggested, “They’ve got to exist.  _ Obviously _ they exist. We can ask them. ” 

“I’ve never fit in anywhere before.” Gerard said, “Why would this be any different?” 

Frank returned his focus to the movie. Gerard had always liked swordfighting shit way more than Frank had. The swords were cool, but he couldn’t focus on the subtitles. It didn’t help that he was too tired to pick up and invest himself in the middle of the plot. Reading was too much work. It was making him sleepy all over again and he wasn’t ready to doze off yet. He didn’t want to leave Gerard alone when he seemed so anxious.   

Gerard took another sip of his blood and set it down on top of the coffin. He laid back against the couch and crossed his arms dejectedly. 

“Do you  _ want  _ to bite me?” Frank found himself asking. He couldn’t drop it now that he’d caught on. 

Frank glanced over at Gerard. Gerard stared back at him, looking thoroughly unamused. 

“I mean, I know you  _ want  _ to.” Frank corrected himself, “Of course you want to.” 

Gerard frowned,  _ deeply.  _

“We don’t have to talk about it ever again.” Frank said, “But I just feel like I should put it out there. You could if you wanted to… I trust you. Just, for the record.” 

 

Frank thought he’d managed to actually  _ fucking offend  _ Gerard because Gerard didn’t say anything. He waited Gerard out, trying to think of a way he could take the offer back altogether, maybe even apologize for bringing it up in the first place.

The movie dragged in uncomfortable silence as the moments ticked by. Frank definitely wasn’t paying attention anymore, he sort of doubted Gerard was either, even though it looked like he was.

“ **No.** ” Gerard said eventually, “ _ For the fucking record. _ No way.”  

“Why not?” Frank asked immediately. 

“Just  _ no. _ ” Gerard insisted. 

“But you  _ want _ to, right?” Frank asked, looking over at Gerard.

Gerard laughed and shook his head.  

Frank wasn’t sure why he was so hurt by Gerard’s blatant rejection of the idea. It wasn’t like he was dying to have his neck ripped open. He just wanted Gerard to touch him, if he was being honest with himself, but he didn’t know how to ask for that. Gerard sinking his teeth into Frank’s neck seemed less personal than kissing. 

Frank relaxed against the couch cushions and tried to forget it. It wasn’t personal. Gerard had been pretty adamant about not drinking from living humans since the first night Frank had been with him.

“I’m not biting you, Frank.” Gerard said. 

“Why not?” Frank asked.

“I promised I wouldn’t hurt you.” Gerard pointed out, “Let’s start there. And end there, too, actually. I’m not going to hurt you.” 

“You’re not gonna hurt me.” Frank said, sitting up and turning his back to Gerard. He tugged on the collar of his shirt to expose his shoulder.

“You’re asking me to punch two giant holes in your neck. Of course it’s going to hurt.” Gerard scoffed, “Didn’t you want to go to that art thing with James or something?” 

“You know I don’t mind pain.” Frank countered, waving his free hand in the air to flash Gerard the tattoos on his hand - as a testament to his pain tolerance. He was going to stay on topic if it killed him. And how  _ dare _ Gerard bring James into this? 

“What if I take too much?” Gerard asked, voice getting closer as he sat up straight, “What if I  _ kill _ you? I could actually literally kill you, you know?” 

“You won’t.” Frank said, “You know you won’t.”  

“Well, I don’t wanna get blood on your shirt.” Gerard said, voice oozing with finality. 

Frank couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Out of all the excuses… Really? Frank sighed and pulled his t-shirt over his head. He let it drop onto the carpet and glanced back at Gerard with a small, encouraging smile. Gerard gave him a calculating look and shook his head, crossing his arms to express deeper disinterest. 

Frank turned back towards the movie and pretended like he was watching again. He could practically  _ feel  _ Gerard’s uncertainty slipping away with each passing  _ clink _ of a samurai sword. It was a little chilly in the room. Frank wasn’t sure how long he was going to have to sit there like this, pretending to read the subtitles. He glanced down at his shirt on the floor. 

He wondered if Gerard was looking at his tattoos. There was definitely some work Gerard hadn’t seen yet. He’d always loved Frank’s tattoos. 

Frank had goosebumps forming on the backs of his arms by the time he felt the couch cushion dip beside him. Gerard was inching closer. He felt a clammy hand on his lower back and it made him shudder in voluntarily. Gerard wrapped his other hand around Frank’s upper arm to position himself.  

Frank tilted his head to the side to give Gerard better access, and closed his eyes to brace himself against the impending pain.  

He let go of Frank’s arm and slid his arm around Frank’s middle to pull him closer. The movement reminded Frank of a large snake closing around him, preparing to squeeze the life out of him. 

Frank felt Gerard’s t-shirt against his back. His heart started to speed up as the danger set in. He couldn’t get away from this now if he wanted to. He was locked in Gerard’s hold.  

“Why is your heart beating so fast?” Gerard asked breathily against Frank’s ear, sending a shiver down his spine, “Are you scared? Having second thoughts?”    
His voice sounded different. It was tighter,  _ crueler.  _ Bloodlust.

“ _ No. _ ” Frank breathed. He sounded less sure than he wanted to. 

“You don’t want this.” Gerard said coldly, “I  _ promise  _ you don’t want this. I don’t know if you’re bored or  _ what…  _ But this is not what you want. Why are you fighting this? Are you bored?” 

Frank could feel Gerard’s breath against shoulder. There was a change in the air around them as Gerard breathed him in. 

“I just want you to touch me.” Frank admitted quietly. 

Gerard pressed his lips to Frank’s shoulder. His fingers twitched against Frank’s skin.  

Frank sucked in a breath and held it, still waiting for the pierce of razor sharp teeth. He felt the skin on his upper back tighten at the prospect of danger. 

Gerard began mouthing at Frank’s shoulder gently. They weren’t kisses, but they weren’t  _ not  _ kisses, either. He made his way up Frank’s neck, just below his ear. 

“You should’ve just asked.” Gerard said quietly, “You know I’d give you anything you want...” 

“Thought I was pretty obvious last night...” Frank said. 

“Maybe you changed your mind since then?” Gerard said, breaking off to argue.  

“I made you get in the coffin with me.” Frank pointed out. 

“You’re just bored.” Gerard reiterated, breath chilly against Frank’s neck, “It’s probably my fault.”

“Make it up to me.” Frank suggested.   

Frank thought he might stop, but Gerard kissed his neck again. Frank’s lips were on fire. His mouth was begging for something to occupy it. Frank reached a hand up to curl into Gerard’s messy hair to keep him right where he was.

Gerard’s mouth wasn’t exactly warm. It wasn’t cold, either. It was about the temperature of the room, which made sense if Frank thought about it. Thinking was getting harder, though. 

Gerard ran his tongue along the length of Frank’s shoulder. 

“I don’t know if I can, Frankie...” Gerard confessed in a pained whisper, “Bite you, I mean.” 

The use of the nickname made Frank shiver. 

“Well for the record, I bet I’m fucking delicious.” Frank protested shakily. He tried to pull away enough to look at Gerard, but Gerard had him in an iron grip. 

“I have no doubt about that.” Gerard said, placing an open-mouthed kiss to the side of Frank’s neck, just below his ear. It sent a signal straight to Frank’s dick. He was sort of relieved he had his back to Gerard so Gerard couldn’t see his fucking  _ face _ . 

There were no fangs, just soft lips and tongue. Frank felt himself relax a little. He leaned back against Gerard and rested his head against Gerard’s shoulder.  

“ _ Mind the tattoos. _ ” Frank managed, feeling one of Gerard’s fangs bump against his skin. 

He let his eyes flutter closed and listened to the sound of Gerard kissing his neck up and down. Gerard’s long hair tickled his skin. It was so surreal. Frank had to have really hit his head on that stage the other night. Maybe he was laying in a hospital bed in a coma somewhere. That seemed more logical than this. 

“Maybe the position’s wrong.” Gerard mumbled, “Do you mind if I-” 

Without further warning, Gerard was pushing Frank down onto the couch. He went down with Frank and ended up sort of half on top of him. Frank bit his lip to try and restrain himself from saying or doing anything. He tried his best to just lay there as Gerard went right back to sucking on his neck. Anything he said might scare the vampire away again. Gerard always thought about everything too much all the time. Frank had learned a long time ago that letting him come to his own conclusions was best. 

He turned his head towards the TV to give Gerard better access. Frank gazed at the swordfighting on the screen through his half-lidded eyes, trying to focus on just breathing. He let his eyes flutter closed as a samurai cut another samurai in half with his sword on the screen. Blood splattered everywhere. This was probably the wrong movie to be watching. 

“ _ Seriously, _ my tattoos, Gee.” Frank reminded, biting his lip as Gerard licked a long stripe up his neck. The last syllable came out as a gasp. 

Frank wasn’t exactly sure how he was going to recover from this if Gerard stopped. He sounded as turned on as he _ felt. _ It would be sort of impossible to deny at this point.

As if he’d read Frank’s mind, Gerard pulled away then. Frank glanced up hesitantly and found Gerard’s face hovering over his. They were inches apart. Gerard’s eyes weren’t totally black yet but they were darker than dark, and full of intent.

Frank lifted his head, closing the distance between them. Their lips met, but it took them a moment to actually  _ kiss _ . It was like the breath had been taken from Frank’s lungs as Gerard’s lips started moving against his. He tangled his fingers in Gerard’s hair to urge him closer. 

Frank had been dying for this. The fire under his skin was spreading. They fit together so perfectly. Gerard slid the rest of the way on top of Frank and licked his way into Frank’s mouth. 

It hadn’t just been Frank. Gerard wanted this, too. They should’ve done this last night. In the graveyard, on that hotel bed... in the back of Gerard’s car, maybe. Frank didn’t fucking care where. They should’ve been _ doing this. _ Gerard should’ve been the first call Frank made the second he knew he was playing L.A. 

Frank knew there were plenty of good reasons why he hadn’t called Gerard. He hadn’t even wanted to  _ talk  _ to Gerard the other day, let alone lie under him defenselessly on his couch while some shitty Samurai movie played. There were probably plenty of good reasons why they shouldn’t even be in the same room right now. Frank struggled to come up with any of them, though. He sighed into Gerard’s mouth in fucking  _ relief,  _ which Gerard returned with another press of his hips. 

As Frank melted and let Gerard kiss the  _ living hell _ out of him, he felt one of Gerard’s fangs drag across the inside of his bottom lip. He could feel the sharp point tearing through the layers of skin. The next thing Frank knew, his mouth was flooded with the familiar metallic taste of blood. 

Gerard had  _ drawn blood. _ There wasn’t much of it, but Gerard shoved his tongue in Frank’s mouth and licked at the cut, groaning as he savored the taste. It shouldn’t have been so hot, but if this was some sort of comatose dream, the rules didn’t matter.    
Gerard pierced his tooth into Frank’s lip more deliberately and sucked Frank’s blood into his mouth, tonguing at the shallow puncture. It didn’t hurt as much as Frank thought it should’ve. He tried to ignore the taste of his own blood as Gerard’s tongue slid against his. 

“You _ are  _ fucking delicious,  _ holy shit.” _ Gerard breathed, pulling away enough to speak. He leaned in to lick at Frank’s lip, and stole another lengthy, dragged-out kiss. 

“ _ Frank. _ ” Gerard sighed, expression pained. It wasn’t as convincing with Gerard’s nightmare eyes. A creature with such cruel eyes couldn’t possibly be capable of knowing pain. 

Frank willed himself to not be afraid of the two black abysses Gerard’s eyes had become. Gerard was probably completely unaware of their change.

“ _ I know... _ ” Frank said quietly, even though he totally had no fucking idea. 

“We should talk about this.” Gerard said, starting to pull away. 

“What’s there to talk about?” Frank asked, grabbing Gerard’s shirt collar and tugging him back down. They kissed again,  _ hard.  _ It was better than before. Frank was more sure of what the fuck he was doing. He could still taste the blood in his mouth, could still feel his lip throbbing from where Gerard had bitten in. 

“ _ Frank. _ ” Gerard protested again, trying to pull away, “I don’t want to…  _ complicate things. _ ” 

“You fucking started it.” Frank teased gently.

“ _ You _ started it, actually.” Gerard argued, “But I wanted you to.” 

“What does that  _ mean? _ ” Frank groaned in frustration. 

Gerard’s eyes started to fade back to normal as he slid off of Frank and dropped to Frank’s side. Frank wanted to scream at the lack of friction. The fire under his skin was still blazing away. He turned to face Gerard. Gerard rested a clammy hand on Frank’s hip and frowned in thought. 

“It doesn’t have to mean anything.” Gerard offered, “We could just be friends that... like to drink each other’s blood?” 

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” Frank said, smiling in spite of himself.

“But we…” Gerard sighed, “We don’t  _ work.  _ Those were your words, not mine.”

Frank frowned, trying to remember when the fuck he’d been stupid enough to say that. He was  _ sure _ that he had, but he couldn’t pull it to the forefront of his brain as easily as Gerard obviously could. 

“It seemed like we were working fine.” Frank pointed out, “...Just now.”  

“Well, _ this _ was always the easy part.” Gerard agreed with a weak smile, reaching his hand up to run his fingers down the side of Frank’s face. If Gerard was trying to dissuade Frank from any further kissing, he was doing a miserable fucking job. 

“Are you calling me  _ easy? _ ” Frank asked, mocking offense. 

“Not at all.” Gerard said, with swords clinking on the TV behind them.  

Frank just stared at Gerard, daring him to come closer. His fangs were still out, changing the shape of his upper lip in just the slightest, menacing sort of way.  

“Look,” Gerard said, pushing Frank onto his back and leaning over him, “If this is anything more than just… _ friends _ who like to drink each other’s blood, do you have any idea how complicated it is?” 

“It’s okay. I like complicated.” Frank said, gazing up at Gerard, “And I’m not drinking any fucking blood by the way. So if you could stop suggesting that I am...”    

“We don’t even live in the same fucking state, Frank.” Gerard pointed out. 

“Well, that’s entirely your fault.” Frank said, lifting a hand to swirl a lock of Gerard’s hair around his finger.  

“I’d let you drink my blood if things were… the other way around.” Gerard offered, finishing his previous thought, “That was all I meant by it.” 

“ _ Fine. _ ” Frank sighed, “ _ Friends...  who like to drink each other’s blood... _ ” 

“I just… I know you’re not about to suggest we try long distance again.” Gerard said, giving Frank a look. 

“But you’re different now.” Frank countered, “ _ I’m _ different now.”  

“I’m fucking  _ dead. _ ” Gerard snorted.

“But you’re still here.” Frank reminded, “You’re not gone. And you’re still a good kisser.” 

“You think so?” Gerard asked curiously. 

“Well…” Frank mused, “Okay, I haven’t fully decided. Let me just...” 

Gerard let Frank pull him down again. Their lips met again. Frank couldn’t remember the last time someone had kissed him like this. Gerard ran a hand over Frank’s bare chest as he licked gently at Frank’s lips. 

Frank had had enough of being Gerard’s prey. He pushed up against Gerard, almost expecting Gerard to put up a fight, but he fell back on the couch just like Frank urged him to. He helped Frank slide onto his lap. Neither of them could tear their lips away. 

The angle was just right. Frank gasped against Gerard’s mouth at the delicious return of friction. Gerard’s hands were already on his hips, pulling Frank closer. Gerard was fucking  _ hard, _ too. Frank could feel it against his inner thigh. Frank reached a hand between them to undo his belt. 

Gerard pushed Frank’s hand away and started helping him with the button on his jeans. The sounds of Frank’s belt  _ tink!ing _ as they moved mixed with the clinking of samurai swords on the speakers. 

Frank was dizzy with Gerard’s kissing. He groaned as Gerard slid a hand under the waistband of his boxers and got a hand around his dick.    
Frank tried to tug his jeans a little further down his hips to give Gerard a better angle to work with. And that was better. That was _ great,  _ actually. 

“Wanna suck you off…” Gerard explained breathlessly, “But I can’t get my teeth to go away when I’m…” 

“We don’t want that.” Frank said, trying to laugh, but it just came out as a gasp. 

Gerard tore into Frank’s lip again as he got his rhythm going, kissing Frank and jacking him off frantically. Frank was so far beyond caring about the taste of blood. Gerard still  _ fucking knew what Frank liked. _ Frank tried to not dwell on Dewees’ statement. Now wasn’t the fucking time to be thinking about his bandmate. 

“ _ Fuck, Gee. _ ” Frank mumbled, bucking his hips against Gerard’s hand shamelessly. His hands searched for the button and fly on Gerard’s jeans so he could figure out if he still knew what Gerard liked. He had a feeling he did. 

It was like there was too much going on all of a sudden. Frank’s head was getting foggy. He felt  _ drugged _ . It was more than just the kissing and the adrenaline, he realized. 

Frank froze and blinked, trying to shake off the feeling. 

“What’s wrong?” Gerard asked worriedly, gazing up at Frank with his black eyes. He slid his hand away from Frank’s dick politely. 

“I feel… weird?” Frank said, letting himself slump against Gerard, head thudding against Gerard’s chest. 

Gerard delicately moved Frank off of him so that they were face to face again. 

“I… can’t feel my lip.” Frank said, reaching a hand up to his face. He pulled his fingers away expecting to find them covered in blood, but they weren’t. 

“I thought I was careful.” Gerard offered helplessly, “I didn’t take very much. I didn’t wanna leave a visible mark… which was why I went so far into your mouth.” 

“Why can’t I feel…?” Frank trailed off, touching his lower lip again. 

“Fuck.” Gerard said, “I knew this was a bad fucking idea.” 

“No.” Frank said shaking his head, “I think it’s just… it’s the bite. It’s…  _ numbing. _ ”

“Fuck.” Gerard repeated, blinking worriedly at Frank. 

“No, Gee, it’s  _ nice. _ ” Frank offered, “It’s like fucking _ morphine _ .” 

Frank let the warm feeling of safety and affection sit heavy in his chest. It hurt to think that it wasn’t real, that it was just the venom from the bite talking. 

“What do I  _ do? _ ” Gerard asked. 

“Definitely don’t suck my dick.” Frank suggested, laughing breathily.  

“Oh… Kay?” Gerard said slowly, clearly not following. 

Frank leaned in and pressed another kiss to Gerard’s lips. He could only feel Gerard’s lips against his top lip. 

“But I’m not done with you.” Frank explained. 

“I don’t…” Gerard hesitated, “This doesn’t feel right.” 

There it was. Gerard was overthinking this. Frank couldn’t tell him to stop, either. He was barely capable of thinking at all. One of them had to be able to think for this to work.  

“We’ll wait ‘til it wears off...” Frank promised, “But kiss me again… Just maybe not on the mouth.” 

“I can do that.” Gerard said, pecking Frank’s cheek. Frank rolled his eyes. That wasn’t what he meant, but it would have to suffice for the moment. 

Frank let himself relax against the couch, trying to focus on the parts of his body that didn’t feel fuzzy. That was hard because…  _ everywhere  _ felt fuzzy. Frank slumped onto his back and snuggled up closer to Gerard. His shirt was warm from Frank’s body heat. He glanced back at the TV, still playing the movie. They’d moved on from the bloody battlefield and were now wandering through a forest. 

Gerard tilted Frank’s face back towards his. He was still frowning. Still upset. 

“There’s nothing to be upset about. I told you I was comfortable experimenting.” Frank explained, “And hey, I think I’m starting to feel my mouth again...” 

“I don’t like this.” Gerard said. 

“You’re a monster. Get used to it.” Frank said. 

Gerard frowned even deeper. 

“I didn’t mean it that way.” Frank amended, “But look at it this way, Gee. If you bite my neck it won’t even hurt. Your teeth are like,  _ packed with morphine.” _

Gerard made a pained groan of disapproval. 

“What?” Frank asked, “You said you were worried about hurting me. I’m telling you that it won’t hurt.” 

“I see…” Gerard agreed flatly. 

“I can’t tell if my lips are working. Help me figure it out.” Frank insisted, sinking his teeth into his lower lip experimentally.  

Gerard leaned in and kissed Frank carefully. There was no heat behind it, no bloodlust, just careful, delicate, polite lips on lips. It was weird to kiss where the point was just to kiss, not to escalate things.

“I think they work again.” Frank said quietly. 

“Good.” Gerard said. 

They kissed again, slow and sweet and careful. Frank was overly aware of his whole body, now that he was checking for signs of the venom. He was painfully aware of everywhere Gerard wasn’t touching him. 

Their kissing quickly grew urgent again. The fire was still there, under Frank’s skin, making him fucking crazy. He couldn’t help but notice the way Gerard was too conservative with his tongue and teeth. 

Gerard ran a hand down Frank’s bare chest - lower, lower - until he was palming at Frank’s dick through his jeans. 

“Fucking _ touch me. _ ” Frank begged. 

That was all the encouragement Gerard needed. He had his hand down Frank’s pants, slowly jacking him off in no time. Frank moaned against Gerard’s lips, trying to bite back the sound. He reached for Gerard’s pants. He’d gotten the button undone before the venom hit. He quickly worked on Gerard’s fly, until his jeans were open. 

Gerard gasped as Frank got a hand around his dick. 

“ _ Frankie _ .” he sighed.

It got harder to kiss politely with more important things at hand.  _ Literally. _ Gerard gently ran his tongue over Frank’s abused lower lip as he panted into Frank’s mouth. Swords had started clinking on the TV behind Frank again. He was aware of them as he came,  _ hard, _ maybe too soon. The entire exchange had been sloppy at best. They’d get it right next time. Assuming there’d  _ be _ a next time. 

As soon as Frank was out of the post-orgasm fog, he focused on making it good for Gerard, circling his thumb over the head of Gerard’s cock, and groaning into Gerard’s mouth encouragingly. 

Gerard wasn’t far behind Frank. Groaning and burying his face in the crook of Frank’s neck as he came. 

“Your heart is beating so fast.” Gerard observed with heavy breaths, “ _ Wow. _ ” 

He sat up enough to pull his t-shirt over his head. He dragged the fabric against Frank’s belly to wipe the cum off. 

Frank felt oversensitive and exposed. Uncertainty curled in his chest as he came down. He folded his arms across his chest as Gerard wiped himself off.

Gerard threw the shirt across the room and snaked an arm around Frank’s middle to pull him close. 

“That was…” Gerard trailed off. 

“ _ Nice. _ ” Frank finished. 

“Yeah.” Gerard agreed with a deep sigh. His breath tickled Frank’s skin. 

Frank turned his head to focus on the movie, even though he wasn’t quite sure he’d ever be able to focus on anything ever again in his life. 

He felt Gerard’s fingers tracing over the tattoo on the left side of his ribs. 

Gerard had always done this after sex...  _ Before. _ When they’d been together before. Frank had forgotten how good it felt. The familiarity of the sensation made him shiver. 

“Cold?” Gerard asked. Frank was too out of it to answer. Gerard stopped tracing the tattoo and the moment was gone. Gerard pulled a blanket off the back of the couch and spread it out over them.

“Gee…” Frank mumbled. 

Gerard hummed in response. 

“When you sleep… do you dream?” Frank asked, “Can vampires dream?” 

“I don’t know.” Gerard answered, “I never remembered my dreams before so… I guess I won’t miss them if they’re gone.” 

Gerard moved on to a tattoo on Frank’s shoulder, delicately tracing the lines. Frank flipped onto his front to give Gerard more ink to work with. Gerard obliged, tracing over the lines in the tattoos on Frank’s back, one by one. Frank’s eyes fluttered closed. He drifted off to the sound of swords clinking.


	3. Red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw - sex & violence

Frank woke up alone on the couch.

A thin line of sunlight trickled in through the space where the blackout curtains weren’t tight. The light crossed Frank’s bare skin.

His fingers flew up to his lip. It felt… _normal._ He tongued at where the punctures from Gerard’s teeth should’ve been. They were gone.  

Frank rolled over and his belt clinked. His pants were still hanging open, loose around his hips. It was the only evidence he had to work with.

He sat up slowly and squinted in the dim. Gerard’s shirt was still balled up on the floor across the room. More evidence.

 

They’d hooked up. It wasn’t just some awful dream.

 

Frank searched around for his phone. It wasn’t in his jeans. He grabbed his shirt off the floor and pulled it back on.

His stiff limbs protested as Frank got up and wandered into the kitchen. His sweatshirt was still draped over the chair in the corner. He felt around in the pockets and he found his phone.

He had a few missed drunken pocket dials from James. They all had accompanying voicemails of James yelling about the importance of the band _Hole_ , which meant he’d probably been hanging around Lyn-Z.

There was also a text from Gerard.

‘ _sorry to leave._ ’ it read, and a second text, ‘ _sunrise._ ’

The coffee from the night before was still warm on the heating element in the bottom of the coffee maker. Frank poured it out and started a fresh pot. Once it was going, he called James. James was supposed to fly back to Jersey later in the day and Frank wanted to drive him to the airport. When Frank called, it went to voicemail. James was probably still asleep if he’d been out late.

 

The house was too quiet. Frank was craving Gerard. He wanted to touch him, feel him, _kiss him._ Anything to quiet the sounds of his own nervous thoughts crashing like waves in a storm on the forefront of his brain.

This schedule wasn’t working for Frank at all. He hated being up all day and asleep all night. He was missing time with Gerard, and it stressed him out, because he wasn’t sure how much time he had left.

As he waited for the coffee to finish brewing, Frank stared at the basement door. He hadn’t gone down there yet. He didn’t know what he’d find. And now, his curiosity had been piqued.

Frank crossed the kitchen and reached for the handle. He froze, and glanced around to make sure no beams of sunlight touched the door. The last thing he needed was to burn Gerard alive.  When he didn’t find any menacing sunbeams, Frank pulled the door open and descended the creaky stairs.

He turned up the brightness on his phone screen and used it to find his way. The stairs turned off to the right.

The floor was covered in deep red carpeting. The carpet was scattered with odds and ends, crumpled up clothes, paint brushes. The mess thickened as Frank crossed the room. The dim light from his cellphone illuminated an air mattress with a comforter draped across it, like a nest in the center of the mess. A sleeping form lay in the center of the mattress.

“Frank?” Gerard asked groggily, “Is that you?”

“Yeah. It’s me.” Frank said, “Sorry to bother you.”

“No. It’s okay. C’mere.” Gerard said sleepily, reaching an arm out from under the blankets to beckon for Frank to come closer.

Frank stuck his phone back in his pocket and fumbled carefully through the darkness, onto the air mattress. It groaned under his weight. Gerard’s unmoving form shifted with Frank’s movements.

“Is everything alright?” Gerard asked, “Why’d you come down here?”

Frank froze, wondering suddenly if he’d made a misstep. But then Gerard’s arms were pulling him under the blankets.

“I guess I don’t sleep like normal. Being woken up feels… really weird. I can’t… _focus._ ” Gerard tried to explain, pulling the blankets around Frank.   

“It’s okay… just go back to sleep.” Frank said, shivering. It wasn’t warmer under the blankets like he’d been subconsciously expecting. Gerard was _cold._ It was like climbing into an empty bed.

Frank dismissed the thought and curled himself around Gerard.

“I was dreaming about you though.” Gerard intoned, “I can still _dream,_ Frank.”  

“ _Gerard_.” Frank scolded in a whisper. The last thing Frank needed was for Gerard to be devastatingly sweet to him.

“I didn’t want to bring you down here.” Gerard explained hoarsely, pressing his lips just under Frank’s jaw and breathing him in, “I thought it might scare you when you woke up.”

Frank tried to picture it. Waking up in a cold dark basement, not knowing where he was, with Gerard’s lifeless body beside him. Frank had definitely had nightmares like that before, though under different circumstances.

“You could’ve just woken me up and told me.” Frank complained.

“I keep you up enough.” Gerard said.

“It’s okay.” Frank said, smiling in the dark, even though he knew Gerard couldn’t see, “I like it.”

Gerard mumbled something he couldn’t quite pick up on.

“Go back to sleep. I’m sorry to bother you.” Frank said.

“Out of blood.” Gerard hummed sleepily, “Keys are on the counter.”

 

_Oh._

Frank stayed curled up under the covers with Gerard, willing himself to not think about how this was what it would be like. Would Gerard even take him back after the way he’d left things the last time? Did Frank even want this again? There was so much distance between them now.  Fucking years. Fucking _miles._

But they’d hooked up. And it had been _good_. And Frank didn’t know where that left things at all.

 

It was hard to drag himself out from under the covers, away from Gerard. In the dark of the basement, it was easy to pretend none of it mattered. It was easy to pretend they wouldn’t have to figure it out.

Frank found himself sighing heavily as he poured himself a fresh cup of coffee. He propped himself up on Gerard’s kitchen counter, face buried in the palms of his hands. The steam from his coffee wafted up to his face and

He grabbed Gerard’s keys off the counter and got in the car to start the drive back to the hotel. He found himself glancing up at Gerard’s house in the rearview mirror as he pulled out of the driveway.

Frank felt so heavy and confused. The coffee wasn’t waking him up at all. Frank felt _dead._

Even as he slid his keycard and let himself into their hotel room, he felt heavy all over, like someone had replaced his blood with lead and carrying his own weight was too much.  

He collapsed on the bed he’d barely slept in and glanced over at the lump under the covers on the bed across the room.

“Frank?” Dewees grumbled, clearing his throat loudly, “That you?”  

“Who else?” Frank scoffed, rolling over to look for the TV remote on the floor.

“Robbers?” James offered sleepily.

“We’ve come to take all your socks.” Frank snorted.

“Goblins take your socks.” James informed, peeling the covers back, “ _Robbers_ take your music equipment.”

“What about vampires? What do they take?” Frank asked.

“I should be asking you.” James said, “ _You_ spent the night with one.”

Frank froze. He glanced up at Dewees in horror.

James just laughed.

“ _What?”_ James asked.

“Did you just…” Frank offered abortively, nearly avoiding falling off the bed.

“Maybe that’s not funny anymore?” James shrugged, “He still looks like a fucking vampire though.”

“Oh... _Yeah._ ” Frank agreed, letting himself breathe.

“How’s that going by the way?” James asked, “You two didn’t come out last night…”

“I uh… it’s weird.” Frank said, letting himself fall back on the pillows, “God… so weird, James.”

“So just like always then?” James asked.

Frank covered his face with his hands and inhaled deeply.

“Jeeze.” James said.

“Yeah. _Jeeze_.” Frank agreed.

“Is it bad weird or good weird?” James asked.

“Good weird.” Frank said, “Definitely _good weird..._ ”

“ _But…_ ” James prompted.

“But we live on opposite sides of the fucking country.” Frank said, somewhat hysterically, “I’m so _stupid._ ”

“You’re not the one who moved to fucking L.A.” James pointed out, “I fucking hate it here, by the way. I’m so ready to go home.”

“Me too…” Frank said, “But…”

“But you’re not ready to leave Geezy...” James finished.

“Don’t call him that.” Frank said, faking a puking noise. He sat up and glared at his bandmate.

“Just get back together.” James said, “What’s stopping you?”

“Everything.” Frank informed gravely, “Literally everything.”

“But nothing’s stopping you from hooking up.” James pointed out, “He’s not fucking married, is he?”

“No!” Frank exclaimed, “He’s not fucking married!”

“Not sure why I bothered trying to understand.” James snorted, “I’m too hungover for this shit, Frank.”

“I fucked up, James...” Frank explained, “I fucked up so bad last time.”

“He’s obviously gotten over it if he’s down to put his shit in your shit or however that works.” James said.

“Oh my _God._ ” Frank groaned, laying against the pillows again and shoving a pillow over his head. His stomach grumbled. When was the last time he’d eaten real food, other than coffee?  

“Sorry!” James said, “I’m just saying!”

“How was hanging out with Lyn-Z?” Frank asked, changing the subject.

“Pretending you care… _Cute._ ” James laughed.

“ _Fuck you._ ” Frank said.

“That’s more like it.” James said, “Last night was… cool. Her friends are really cool. They’re just all… _really gay._ ”

Frank pulled the pillow off his head and sat up again, blinking at James.

“Courtney Love, huh?” Frank asked.

“What about her?” James asked.

“I’m not sure. There were… _voicemails._ ” Frank explained.

“There’s a lot I don’t remember from last night, Frank.” James explained, “I said they were gay, not that they didn’t know how to have a good time.”

~

 

Frank felt as if he was turning into a vampire by association. He found himself sleeping through the sunlight to get to the night faster. James ordered them room service. Frank passed out while they waited for it. He opened his eyes to find a plate of soggy, lukewarm portobello mushrooms. He ate them contently.   
They laid around in their hotel room, picking at their food and napping through the day.

By late afternoon, they’d managed to pack up most of their things. They’d left hotel rooms in worse conditions in the past.

Frank was lucky James was hungover. The other half of Death Spells had no qualms with sitting outside of a cafe for a long time while Frank chain smoked in the sun. He put on a pair of shades and nursed an americano with his feet propped up on his suitcase. Frank relaxed back in his chair and let the sun warm his face. The light hitting the black fabric of his sweatshirt warmed the tops of his arms.

It sucked to not be able to talk about it, but there was nothing Frank could do. He couldn’t stop thinking about Gerard could never do this again. It seemed like a fair price to pay if the alternative was being dead altogether, but the thought stuck with him.

They drove around for awhile in search of a supermarket so James could get snacks for his plane ride. Frank had an excuse for the pigs blood planned out in his head. If James asked, he’d tell him the blood was for Gerard’s art. It was kind of amazing how many things could be explained away by Gerard’s weirdness.

Gerard wouldn’t be thrilled, but slipping off to the deli counter on the way over to Gerard’s was less suspicious than requesting they visit a high end butcher shop. Some things would definitely be easier once James left.

They pulled into Gerard’s driveway at sunset. The sky was vibrant oranges and golds. Frank nonchalantly muscled his backpack full of pigs blood from the car into the house and stuffed them into the fridge for safe keeping. It was shaping up to be a normal day in sunny L.A.

They waited for Gerard to come back from “ _finishing errands.”_ Frank wasn’t sure what James would say when Gerard wandered out of his basement with bed head, rather than through the front door looking...“ _busy.”_ He silently decided he’d cross the bridge when they got there.

In the meantime, they raided Gerard’s closet. Frank was, of course, quickly distracted by analyzing Gerard’s room, though he’d never admit to doing it.

Everything was so unapologetically Gerard. Weird paintings and posters filled almost every free inch of free wall space.

Gerard’s room smelled like _Gerard._ It was dark, and quiet, and cluttered. James found a strange, form-fitting, goth sea captain’s jacket with gold fringe. It somehow went so so well with the rest of his outfit. Frank tugged on one of Gerard’s leather jackets and breathed in the familiar smell. _Gerard_ and cigarette smoke, mixed with traces of that cologne he sometimes wore because his grandfather had worn it.

As Frank looked around at Gerard’s life, he thought about how this was the way he’d left it, the day he’d been killed. If he hadn’t been brought back as a vampire, his house would still be there. Empty. Without Gerard.

If Gerard was gone who would go through his belongings? Would Mikey have to be the one to do it? Would their parents have to? Would anyone have ever bothered to tell Frank?

 

“What’s up, Frankie?” James asked, when they went out back for a smoke, “You been _real fuckin quiet._ ”

“Just tired.” Frank shrugged, dragging his cigarette.

The sun had gone down. It was finally starting to get dark out. Frank shoved his free hand into the pocket of Gerard’s jacket and his hand connected with something small and cold. He pulled out a lighter, wrapped in a handful of old receipts. It’s silver surface was worn in with scratches. He examined it as he puffed on his cigarette.

“I’ll make some coffee.” Frank offered, “Gerard should be here soon...”

“What does he _do_ all day?” James asked, “Lyn-Z and I were trying to figure it out. He seems so _busy_ all the time.”

“Does he?” Frank asked around his cigarette.

“Do I?” Gerard asked.

Frank looked up. Gerard had silently appeared in the doorway. Frank wasn’t going to get used to the way he looked. His skin was practically _glowing_ in the dim. He was paler than pale. His bedhead looked intentional, rather than haphazard.

Frank was torn between crossing the space between them to wrap himself around Gerard, and maintaining his stoicism. Gerard just nodded at Frank awkwardly. Frank had to look away. He stared down at his shoes.

“Hey _buddy._ ” James said, “Long time no see.”

“Hi James.” Gerard said back, “Nice jacket.”

“Oh! It’s yours, actually.” James laughed.

“Yes.” Gerard agreed, “I know.”

“Needed something spiffy for my last night in the worst city in America...” James explained, “Hope you don’t mind. You’re coming out, aren’t you?”

“It really is the worst city in America, isn’t it?” Gerard agreed.

Frank looked up again. Gerard was staring right at him, expression blank.

“Lyn-Z only texted me about… Let’s see…” Gerard sighed, tearing his gaze away from Frank to pull out his phone, “500 times? Art opening, right? Free wine? Assholes?”

“She uh… failed to mention the assholes part.” James said, dropping his cigarette on the ground and crushing it under his sneaker, “I suppose that’s sort of a given, though, isn’t it?”

“ _Worst city in America._ ”  Gerard repeated, “Couldn’t have said it better myself... Frank, did I hear you say you were going to make coffee?”

“Yeah.” Frank nodded, clearing his throat.

“Can I help?” Gerard asked, dazzling Frank with a perfectly innocent smile.

“Sure.” Frank agreed, returning Gerard’s grin. He was certain it didn’t look as convincing as Gerard’s had.

 

James had to know it didn’t take two people to make a pot of coffee. Maybe the other half of Death Spells hadn’t been listening, or maybe he’d taken it as a cue to give Frank and Gerard a moment alone.

Either way, Frank could feel Gerard’s eyes on him as he poured a mug of blood and popped it into the microwave. He could feel every inch of space between them in the small kitchen.

While the ceramic turned inside the microwave, Frank set to making the _actual coffee._ In spite of his previous offer, Gerard did little to help making coffee. He watched Frank putter around the kitchen with interest.

“You smell… _different._ ” Gerard commented quietly, leaning into Frank’s space to inhale. Frank froze with one finger still on the ‘brew’ button.

“ _Different._ ” Frank repeated just as quietly.

“Like sunlight.” Gerard explained. His voice was close to Frank’s ear.

“Sunlight has a smell?” Frank asked, turning his head enough to look at Gerard. He was closer than Frank had realized, eyes dark and intent.

“Sort of.” Gerard said, leaning even closer, “It makes people smell different. It doesn’t have a smell by itself, though. So like, if you were to spend all day at the beach without a shirt on, or something… But my driveway is no different, even though it’s always in the sun all day.”

Gerard’s breath was tickling Frank's throat as he spoke. Frank felt goosebumps bloom over the tops of his arms. He closed his eyes to keep his composure.

“Is it like bad different or good different?” Frank asked.

“Neither.” Gerard said, “Just different _._ It’s really, really… _subtle._ ”

“Well…” Frank swallowed, “Would you like it if I spent more time in the sun?”

“I’d like it if you spent time outside in the daylight. Yes.” Gerard said, “I want things to be as close to normal for you as they can be.”

Frank couldn’t help but scoff at that, because it was ridiculous to hear those words from the lips of a vampire who had explicitly enlisted his help.

“I guess I should pick up some more coffee?” Gerard commented, moving away just as easily as he had moved in close, “Looks like I’m getting low...”

“What do you even need it for?” Frank asked.

“... _Houseguests,_ I suppose _?_ ” Gerard mused, with a long sigh, “And I’m guessing I’ll have to keep up appearances to some extent, won’t I?”

“Something tells me your coffee supply is the least of your problems...” Frank commented.

“Well, I still like it.” Gerard clarified, “I don’t suppose they make coffee scented air fresheners?”

“They might.” Frank shrugged.

The microwave beeped. Frank watched as the vampire pulled the mug out of the microwave and sniffed curiously.

“Not the good stuff.” Frank informed sheepishly, watching Gerard take a sip.

His eyes faded to black as he drank slowly.

“How’s your, um... _coffee?_ ” Frank asked.

“I can’t complain.” Gerard said gruffly, voice low. There was a growl on the back of his exhale. He tipped the rim of the mug against his lips and finished it off in one long swallow.

“I think I’d like a second cup actually.” Gerard said darkly, clearing his throat.

“There’s plenty where that came from.” Frank informed.

Gerard was already pouring himself a second cup and popping it in the microwave. They glanced at one another as Gerard waited for it to heat.

“I guess I should warn you…” Gerard said, “Lyn-Z’s friends are not like your friends.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Frank asked, only the smallest bit offended.

Gerard shrugged.

“I don’t know if you’ll like them.” he hedged.

“I’m sure they’re fine.” Frank waved him off.

“Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Gerard smiled.

He pulled the mug of blood out of the microwave and held it up to his lips to take another experimental whiff. He shot a quick glance at Frank and frowned.

“What’s wrong?’ Frank asked.

“I just… I feel so self conscious with you watching me like that.” Gerard explained.

“Sorry!” Frank quickly apologized, and turned in search of something else to look at.

“It’s okay, it’s just… hang on a sec.” Gerard faltered.

Frank heard Gerard drink down the blood in his cup, trying and failing to find something else to listen to in the small cluttered kitchen. He turned back towards Gerard when he heard the sink running. Gerard was filling his mug up with water. Frank thought he might just be rinsing it out, but then he brought it up to his lips and took a sip.

“Are you drinking… _water?_ ” Frank asked curiously.

“ _Frank_.” Gerard complained.

“Sorry!” Frank apologized again, “Do you want me to leave?”

“No.” Gerard said, taking another sip of water.

Gerard swished the water around in his mouth and spat into the sink.

“It’s just so _bizarre._ ” Frank informed, “You should watch yourself do it in the mirror. Your eyes get all _dark._ ”

“Can’t see my reflection.” Gerard reminded bitterly.

“Oh.” Frank said, “ _Right.”_  

“Actually… can you tell me if there’s any blood in my teeth?” Gerard requested, moving into Frank’s space, “The microwave makes it congeal all weird and the last thing I need is people asking questions about my bloody mouth.” He parted his lips to give Frank a look. His sharp, white fangs were distracting. Frank’s heart fluttered at the thought that his tongue had touched them the night before.

“Looks good.” Frank said quietly, “I don’t think people are going to be looking into your mouth… They’re going to be looking at the art.”

“You made me self conscious.” Gerard reminded, “And I can’t fucking look for myself.”

“You look… _fine._ ” Frank promised awkwardly, “Like a regular guy. So normal and regular, I can’t believe it.”

Gerard gave Frank his best lopsided grin.

“I’m sort of worried about blood breath.” Gerard admitted, covering his mouth with a pale hand, “I mean, if coffee breath is a thing _…_ ”

Frank shrugged.

“Are you ready to go to this thing?” Gerard asked around his hand, “I don’t wanna make James wait...”  

Frank smiled.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”  

~

 

It had only been a matter of days, and Frank was already a lost cause. He blamed it on the lack of closure. The way he’d ended things with Gerard before didn’t really allow for closure.   
There was absolutely no reason he should be charmed by every little thing Gerard did, from the way he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel at red lights, to the way he cursed under his breath when he parallel parked.

When Frank closed his eyes, he could almost _feel_ Gerard’s lips on his. He wondered idly if Dewees had picked up on the static between them.

Frank was still sorting through his feelings as they walked up to the art gallery. He could already hear the buzzing of conversation. A few people were smoking outside. They eyed him and he eyed them right back, following closely behind Gerard as he made his way inside.

 

“Gerard. Perfect timing. Can I borrow you for a moment?” Lyn-Z asked the second they walked in the door.

Gerard glanced over at Frank before nodding.

“That’s how she works...” Dewees sighed, watching Lyn-z escort Gerard through the crowd, “Swoops in like a hawk. It’s kind of amazing actually.”

James dutifully found them the free wine that art openings always seemed to have. There was cheese and grapes, too, and James made a point to take enough for both of them.

Frank wasn’t hungry. As he glanced around the room, he wished someone had given him the memo about blue jeans. He appeared to be the only one wearing them. And to that end, he was the only one wearing Vans. Or, any shoes with laces, for that matter. Frank wasn’t sure why he’d bothered to look around. It wasn’t like he knew anyone there.

Frank eyed a pair of glittering glamrock boots a few feet away from him. Gerard had been right about one thing: Lyn-Z's friends weren't like his friends. They were loud and brightly colored. Most of them looked like the hated smoking weed. They reminded Frank of Gerard's art school friends, as opposed to Mikey's music scene friends. 

At least no one in a suit was going to corner him and try to talk him up about record deals. 

Speaking of record deals, it took him a moment to notice there was no fucking music playing. At least no one could see the huge frown across Frank’s face as he sipped his wine quietly in the dim candlelight. This was about as far from punk as they could possibly get. How had James had fun with these people the night before? And how the fuck did Gerard _survive_ this?

The only actual lights in the room were focused towards the art hanging on the walls. Frank quickly realized it was all _Gerard’s art._ He recognized a few of the pieces from the studio they’d gone to the other day. The piece Frank could only describe as a scene from the stepford wives was framed and propped up against the wall on a low table across the room. Frank brought his wine glass up to his lips and took a long gulp. He shuddered at the taste. He hated wine, just like he hated L.A.   
Gerard _had_ warned him about all this. Frank pretended he wasn’t looking around for the vampire in the sea of unfamiliar faces. Lyn-Z had only asked to borrow him for a _moment_ , and as the minutes slipped by, Frank grew tense.

Gerard had eaten before they left, but what if he’d gotten hungry again and was devouring his assistant in the back room? Gerard had been tense about going to a party a few nights before, and this was just as bad. Frank considering texting Gerard to make sure everything was okay, but it seemed like overkill. If he was ripping her throat out, a text wouldn’t change much.

James clinked his glass against Frank’s to pull him out of his brooding. It worked, sort of. Frank smiled at his friend.

“Can’t wait to get the fuck out of here.” James said.

“Yeah. Me neither.” Frank agreed.

There were too many pairs of eyes on them. As people passed him by, Frank could see them trying calculate who he knew and why he was there. It was like highschool all over again and Frank had made a point to get out of that as quickly as possible a long time ago.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so focused on Gerard.” Frank said, in all seriousness.

“You know I don’t care.” James snorted.

“Yeah. I know.” Frank agreed.

“I need a cigarette.” James grumbled, “You wanna come with?”

“I think I’m gonna… wait here.” Frank said anxiously.

“Suit yourself.” James grumbled, taking his glass of wine with him.

Frank watched him go. He missed Jersey. He missed his dog. He tried to think of what he’d be doing if he was home. He’d probably be walking Peppers, or drinking a beer and settling in to work on music.

Frank sighed as he started to follow the flow of the crowd. Groups of people standing around, floating from painting to painting, carefully inspecting Gerard’s pieces.

This was big. Obviously, if Gerard was supporting himself on his paintings alone, it meant his art was going places - had been for awhile, rather. But to actually see it up on the walls made it click for Frank. Gerard had made a name for himself in the art world like he’d always fucking wanted.

“There you are. Always an escape artist…” Gerard said, somewhere behind Frank.

Frank turned in search of his voice.

“You’re the one who disappeared.” Frank pointed out.  

“I didn’t mean to leave you like that.” Gerard apologized.

“It’s okay.” Frank said tensely, “You didn’t eat anyone, did you?”

“Nope.” Gerard smiled, offering Frank a fresh glass of wine, “Think I’ve had enough to drink for one evening…”  

Frank was too distracted to even reach for the glass. Gerard’s face was sparkling like crazy, like someone had upended a bottle of pixie dust onto him. The flecks of glitter on his cheekbones reflected in the dim light. Some of the colors matched the colors in his eyes, while others were silver and white. They matched up with his pale skin beautifully.

Gerard reached for Frank’s empty glass and replaced it with the full one, setting the empty down on the nearest table.

“Lyn-Z did my makeup.” Gerard explained quietly, leaning towards Frank so he could keep his voice low, “I told her I didn’t have time, but she said it might be the thing that finally convinces you you’re still in love with me. I figured… couldn’t _hurt._ ”

Frank’s brain short circuited. He didn’t have it in him to come up with a clever response. His breath caught in his throat. He blushed and looked away, which was almost as bad as admitting Lyn-Z’s artistry had worked.

“You didn’t tell me they’d be showing _your_ art.” Frank complained, quickly regaining his composure and clearing his throat. He turned back towards the painting closest to them, pretending he wasn’t finished inspecting the details.  

“I didn’t mention that?” Gerard asked obliviously.

“No.” Frank said, shaking his head, “It’s… this is _amazing,_ Gee. You’ve gotten so good.”

“I’ve been wanting to show you some stuff I’ve been working on...” Gerard said, “I wasn’t sure if you cared.”

“Of course I _care._ ” Frank said, turning back to shoot the vampire a pointed look, “How could you possibly say that?”

“Well… what do you say we go back to my place?” Gerard asked, expression unreadable, “After we drop James off? There’s some things I kind of wanted to show you.”

Frank wasn’t sure if Gerard was talking about his art or not, but he also didn’t care.  

They were close - easily less than a foot apart - but somehow not nearly close enough. Electricity was buzzing between them. Frank glanced out at the other people around the room to break the intensity of Gerard’s heavy gaze. A few of them were staring back, probably wondering what the artist at large was doing talking to the only person in the room stupid enough to wear blue jeans to an art opening.

“ _What about this party?_ ” Frank wondered.

“Well, if I’m being perfectly honest, you’re the only person in this entire room I have any interest in speaking to.” Gerard said easily.  

Frank bit his lip. That was a confession, plain and simple. Gerard still _cared._ Of course he did.

“We don’t have to go back to my place.” Gerard added quietly, “There’s still… so many places I want to take you. We could go anywhere, Frank.”

“That sounds… suspiciously like a date.” Frank commented blankly, looking back up at Gerard.

“Does it?” Gerard asked, “I mean… I’m not _opposed._ ”

Frank’s heart was fucking pounding in his chest. He’d forgotten entirely that he was supposed to be missing Jersey.

“What do you say?” Gerard urged.

“I-”

Frank was startled by a hand on his arm. Some of his wine sloshed onto the floor as James bumped right into him.

He had glitter on his face too, though it wasn’t quite as magical as Gerard’s. In fact, it sort of just made him look wilder, which was impressive for James. He already looked pretty fucking wild most days.

A pair of nearly-matching androgynous goths stood behind James, expressions blank as they waved halfheartedly at Frank. They were so pale, Frank almost mistook them for vampires.

“Fans.” James explained.

“Oh, Hi!” Frank said, smiling hugely.

“We like, totally dug your show the other night.” The one on the right with a thick silver nose ring intoned, “Powerful stuff.”

“We’re all about the post-post-industrial sound.” the one on the left with a single tuft of bleach-damaged hair added.

“Thanks?” Frank said, not sure if he was intimidated or intrigued.

“Wait… What’s _post-post-industrial?_ ” James asked curiously.

“How can you ask that when you’re _living it_?” the one on the right asked.

“I… I don’t know?” James sputtered, “Am I living post-post-industrial?”

“It’s complicated.” The one with the nose ring explained.

“Sounds like it.” James agreed.

Frank felt Gerard’s hand on his arm, right at the bend in his elbow. And really, was everyone out to spill Frank’s drink tonight? He brought the glass to his lips and downed the rest, before anyone else had the chance to spill it.

It was hard to focus on the importance of post-post-industrial music with Gerard’s hand on his arm. Frank couldn’t get Gerard’s words out of his head. He wanted Frank to still love him, or... to love him again? Was there even a difference?

Frank loved Gerard. Still. Again. That wasn’t the problem.

The problem was absolutely everything else.  

 

Saying goodbye to Lyn-Z took forever. She drew the hugs out, peppered Dewees’ face with blood-red lipstick kisses, and even tried to send him off with a bottle of wine he wouldn’t be able to get through airport security. Frank politely pretended to not notice the encouraging look she shot Gerard before they left.

“I like her.” James said decidedly once they were outside, “She’s cool.”

“Yeah. She’s pretty fucking great.” Gerard agreed.

 

Gerard unlocked the passenger side first and opened the door for Frank. His glitter was glistening by the light of the streetlamps. The time it took Frank to stare was long enough for James to slide past him, right into the passenger seat.

“Shotgun. That’s what you get for being gross.” James said, “Wait ‘til I leave.”   
Frank smiled and climbed into the back seat. He was still sort of thinking about asking James to stay, even though things would be easier without him there. He couldn’t let go of of the thought of being alone in an unfamiliar city with a newly turned vampire. It was at the back of his mind somewhere in a persistent hum.

The L.A. neighborhoods passed them by along the highway, as they headed for the airport. James and Gerard were talking about something but Frank couldn’t focus. He couldn’t stop staring at the empty space in the rearview mirror where Gerard’s eyes should’ve been.

 

“Hurt him all you want, but I need him in one piece by the end of next week.” James said, as he pulled his suitcase out of Gerard’s trunk, ”In New Orleans. No If’s, And’s or... _Butts.”_

“Got it.” Gerard nodded, sneaking Frank a confused glance.

Frank just shrugged.

“I’ll see you back home.” James said, pulling Frank in for a fucking bear hug. Frank hugged back in earnest.

“Was good to see you, buddy.” James said, hugging Gerard.

James was a lot more straightforward when it came to goodbyes. There was no wine handed off, no lipstick kisses. He still had lipstick all over his face, but if Frank had to guess, he’d say Dewees wanted it there.

Frank watched him go in through the sliding airport doors from the passenger seat. He was still wearing Gerard’s jacket. Gerard either hadn’t noticed or didn’t care.

“So where to?” Gerard asked, pulling the car away from the drop off point.

“Your place.” Frank said, without even thinking about it. The sliding doors shrank away.

“ _First._ ” he amended, “To see your art. Then, we can go anywhere. Like you said. _”_

“Okay.” Gerard said.

Frank felt a hand cover his.

“You okay?” Gerard asked.

“Yeah.” Frank sighed.  
Gerard’s hand slid away from his, back to the steering wheel.

“Is it something I said?” Gerard asked.

Frank realized he’d sort of left Gerard hanging back at the gallery. It wasn’t really his fault. Gerard hadn’t picked the best time or place to talk about his feelings. He wasn’t straightforward like James.

“I think you know exactly how I feel...” Frank said vaguely.

“I might.” Gerard said, “But I’ve been wrong about you before...”

Gerard was looking for him to say a very specific set of words, even if they were meaningless in the grand scheme of things. Frank wasn’t going to give them to him. Not yet. He wanted to see how much of that glitter could rub off on him first.

 

They stopped for gas somewhere. Frank stared off into the shadows while Gerard filled the tank. Frank stared out into the shadows cast He felt… afraid of the dark? Like something he couldn’t see was lurking, _watching_.

Frank wasn’t sure why he was getting horror movie vibes now. After spending a few days in the home of a vampire, the dark hardly seemed like something to fear.

Gerard slid back into the driver’s seat. He hesitated for a moment with his hand on the keys in the ignition.

“Have you eaten?” Gerard asked, “Do you want to-”

Frank cut him off with a kiss. Gerard was so perfectly on the same page. He was pulling Frank close as soon as Frank had leaned in.

Frank slid his hands up Gerard’s chest and over his collarbones as they kissed. He brought them to rest at the back of Gerard’s neck. His fingers twisted in Gerard’s hair.

It was strange how Gerard’s breath wasn’t warm. It was muted. More sensation than warmth. His lips seemed to warm gradually the longer they were pressed against Frank’s.

Gerard kissed Frank breathless. He seemed intent on taking more than blood. He wanted Frank’s heat, his breath, and his love, as if blood wasn’t enough.

The steering wheel was so very in the way. When Frank glanced out the window, people around them were still going about their night, getting gas, buying cigarettes and sodas from the convenience store.   
They should probably be somewhere darker, more secluded.

“Back seat?” Frank requested breathlessly, “We could just move the car over-”

“No way.” Gerard breathed, “I gotta get you home. I want-”

Gerard fumbled with the keys in the ignition and started the car. He pressed a fluttery kiss against Frank’s lips before putting the car in drive. His fangs were out. Two small razor-sharp white points just below the line of his lip gave them away.

“Buckle up.” Gerard said, hitting the gas.

 

They couldn’t get to Gerard’s place fast enough.

Frank knew enough about Gerard to know Gerard would make it worth the wait. He always liked to make their time together count. The nights Frank came home from weeks away on tour were always the ones that stuck out in Frank’s mind.

Frank’s wine buzz had worn off by the time Gerard was pulling into the driveway. He was barely aware of it.

He felt giddy and nervous as they made their way up to the house.

Frank wasn’t sure how long he had to pretend he was more interested in Gerard’s paintings than his lips.

It wasn’t that he didn’t care about Gerard’s paintings. He’d been dying to see them, actually. But he’d been looking at Gerard’s art less than an hour ago, and it had been almost 24 since they’d been alone like this.

Gerard was sick of pretending too apparently. As soon as he’d shut the front door behind them, he was pushing Frank up against it and kissing the living hell out of him. He didn’t even bother to flip the lights on. His fangs were still out, only sort of in the way when Frank shoved his tongue in Gerard’s mouth.

“I can’t get them to go away when it’s like this.” Gerard explained guiltily, pulling away enough to speak, “I’m _trying._ But it’s hard. Your heart is beating so fast, Frankie.”

Frank shut him up with his lips, but quickly let Gerard take the lead. He was pressed into Frank, kissing him like he still had something to prove.

“My studio is, uh...” Gerard faltered, pulling away only a fraction of an inch to speak. He framed Frank’s face with his palms, “It’s… _here_ … come on, I’ll show you.”

Frank let Gerard lead him through the dark. Frank had been in the house long enough, he knew where they were going.

Gerard reached over to turn a lamp on. Frank squinted in the light as his eyes adjusted. Red paint was splashed across the floor and dried into the carpet. It hadn’t been there the last time Frank had taken a peek, which meant Gerard had been working on something.

 

The arrangement of the room was incredibly chaotic. Paintings covered by drop cloths leaned against each wall. Some of them were as tall as the walls. Paint fumes lingered. A couch was nestled into one of the corners. Several tables took up the center of the room. Frank sat up on the edge of a desk, strewn somewhat randomly among the tables, to get a better look at the source of the red.

The culprit was hanging against the far wall. It was the only piece that wasn’t fully covered. A cloth hung over the corner. Gerard stepped closer to pull it back.

The piece was… _complicated_ and very, very red.

Frank hadn’t gone to art school. He didn’t know shit about art. He’d picked up a little vocabulary from being around Gerard all the time. He sort knew how to talk about a painting when it was presented to him, but in the moment he was blanking, distracted by the deep reds. The canvas was like a blood-soaked tissue. Frank wondered idly if Gerard had started the piece after he’d been turned. There was something horrific about the personification of bloodlust.

“You’ve gotten good, Gee.” Frank said, “You were always good. But this is… The stuff at your show, too...”

Gerard’s lip twitched. He hated praise when it came from anyone other than Frank. He’d told Frank at least a dozen times.

“You really like it?” Gerard asked, genuine surprise in his voice, “I’m not sure if I like it. My head’s been kinda messed up lately. The direction’s all wrong...”

“Of course I like it.” Frank said thoughtfully, “It’s too clean but it’s still so… _you._ You know?”

Gerard turned towards Frank and nodded.

“Too clean… do you mean the studio or the linework?” Gerard asked, cocking his head to one side.

“Both?” Frank supplied.

There was a touch of bewilderment in his eyes as he took a step towards Frank, and then another, and then another. Frank swallowed hard as Gerard closed in on him. He was distracted, temporarily, by the flecks of glitter on Gerard’s cheek bones. A second later Gerard was up in his space, trapping him against the desk.

“How much longer do I have to pretend I don’t want you back?” Gerard asked bluntly. His face was inches away from Frank’s, glittering eyes cold and intent.

“You don’t want me back.” Frank said easily, caught off guard.

“Don’t tell me what I want.” Gerard said, “I _died,_ Frank.”

“Um…” Frank offered weakly. He wanted to fucking hide from the look Gerard was giving him.

“You can’t just show up and… tell me you like my fucking art, fucking… actually _get_ my art. Not care that I’m dead, and worse, _sober._ ” Gerard complained, “Kiss me the way you did last night... You can’t just fill every fucking hole you left in my life _so perfectly_ and expect me to just… ignore it. I want you back, Frank.”

“I didn’t _just show up._ ” Frank pointed out, unable to stop himself, “You _begged me_ to help you.”

“Well now I’m begging you to stay.” Gerard said simply.

Gerard’s eyes were predatory, calculating. He’d picked up on Frank’s quickening heart beat. His fangs were still out.. Frank wasn’t sure if Gerard was even aware of them anymore.

“I’m still an asshole.” Frank warned breathlessly, staring back into Gerard’s cold, hollowing eyes.  

“And I’m still a nightmare.” Gerard countered gently, “Just a _different kind_ of nightmare.”

“I’m still always on tour.” Frank pointed out.

“Well I’m still fucking _dead._ ” Gerard shrugged.

Frank blinked, caught between wishing Gerard wouldn’t talk about it, and relieved that he was finally fucking talking about it.

“We fight, Gee...” Frank said, running out of easy answers.

“You like make-up sex.” Gerard said softly, “ _Love it,_ actually, _sadistic motherfucker._ ”  

Frank blushed.

“We haven’t fought at all this week, anyway.” Gerard observed.

“You needed my _help._ ” Frank reminded.  

“I don’t think that’s it...” Gerard soothed, “I think we’ve changed, Frank.”

Frank stared hard at Gerard.

Gerard was so close. He sounded so _sure_. Frank was fully prepared to act now and figure out the details later, but he was waiting for rationality to kick in. There had to be a catch. It felt too easy.

“Okay. What about the distance?” Frank asked, voicing his only real concern.

Gerard frowned. He didn’t have an answer to that obviously, which was comforting to Frank, because Frank didn’t have an answer either.

“I guess I can’t interest you in moving to L.A. any time soon?” Gerard asked weakly.

Frank shook his head.

“We’ll…” Gerard sighed, “We’ll fucking figure it out? I don’t care, Frank. _I want you._ ”

Frank reached for the front of Gerard’s shirt to pull him closer. Their lips met. Frank immediately felt Gerard’s fangs, sharp and impatient at the front of his mouth.

They kissed again. Gerard slid his tongue against Frank’s bottom lip.

Gerard’s lips parted. Frank dragged his tongue under one of the sharp points. He tasted crimson and rust. Gerard groaned into Frank’s mouth.

Gerard slid in between Frank’s legs and grabbed Frank’s hips to pull him closer.

Frank slid his hands under the shoulders of Gerard’s jacket to help him get it off. Gerard tried to pull it off the rest of the way without tearing his lips away from Frank’s. Frank couldn’t help but smile against Gerard’s lips. Gerard smiled back, and for a second, their lips were too tight for real kissing.

Gerard slid his hands up the back of Frank’s shirt and pulled him closer and the almost-friction as their hips pressed together was so _delicious._ Frank was already desperate for more of wherever that was coming from.

“Gee.” Frank breathed, tilting his head back to give Gerard access to his neck. Gerard gently ran his tongue over Frank’s skin.   
Frank almost expected Gerard to bite him then, but Gerard was kissing him so slow, being so fucking _gentle…_ This was the way he’d always been on nights before Frank _left_ for tour: giving Frank a thousand tiny details to miss when he was away. He thought about those nights when he was on the road. They kept him coming _home._

“You can bite me.” Frank verbalized, staring up at the ceiling, “I don’t mind.”

“I wanna go slow.” Gerard informed gently, “It’s hard to stay focused… I need to make sure I’m paying attention. I don’t wanna hurt you, Frankie.”

The pet name made Frank’s chest do stupid fluttery things. He pulled back enough to lift his shirt up over his head. The zipper on Gerard’s coat was cold against Frank’s bare skin as they kissed again. And again. And again.  

 

There was a deafening crash behind them from somewhere else in the room, like hundreds of panes of glass shattering. Gerard practically growled at the noise. Frank was paralyzed by the sudden intrusion on his senses. It took his brain a moment to catch up with reality.

He turned in search of the noise, but Gerard was already tugging on Frank, pulling him off of the desk.

“Gee what the-”

Gerard covered Frank’s mouth with his hand and steered him away from where the noise had come from.

It was hard to make it out in the dim. Glass sparkled all over the floor. The tiny panes of glass making up the intricate sunlight in the ceiling had shattered.

Frank had to blink. It had happened so fast. Someone else was in the room with them, all of a sudden. Frank could make out their silhouette as he squinted.

“ _You._ ” Gerard said, pushing Frank behind him protectively.

“Hello Gerard.” a man’s voice intoned, “Nice to see you again.”

The man took a step forward and glass crunched under his feet.

“You couldn’t use the front door?” Gerard asked.

“You needed to board those windows up anyways.” the man said, “You and sunlight don’t mix so good anymore... How’s that going for you, by the way?”

“Peachy.” Gerard said flatly.

“You don’t sound so grateful...” the man observed.

 

It was then that it clicked for Frank. The man before them was the man that had turned Gerard into the monster he was now. Gerard had gone home with this creep and he’d paid for it with his life.

Frank saw _red._

 

“Come closer.” The man instructed.

Gerard took a step forward.

“What the fuck?” Gerard breathed.  

“I made you what you are.” the man informed, “Which means that I can command you just as well. You’ll do exactly as I say.”

“I won’t.” Gerard said, taking a step back, broadening his shoulders protectively in front of Frank.

The man raised a hand and Gerard took two steps forward, almost walking right into the desk Frank had been sitting on moments before.

“Good boy.” the man said.

“Frank _run_.” Gerard said under his breath.

 

The vampire took a few steps closer to them, glass cracking under his shoes as he walked.

“And who might you be?” the man asked, “Gerard, could it be you were preparing a midnight snack? Is there enough to share?”  

“He’s no one.” Gerard snapped.

“Everybody is somebody, Gerard.” the man said, “We discussed this already. Everybody knows something - and someone - that you don’t. It’s important to make connections. _Network..._ Veins are just networks. Humans are quite good at networking. ”

“Stay the fuck away from him.” Gerard hissed, “Frank, fucking _run_! I can’t move.”

 

Frank had seen enough movies. He knew what he had to do. He glanced around the room. There were shards of broken glass all over the floor. He’d slice the shit out of his hand in the process, but if he could get to one of those shards, he could stab it right into the vampire’s chest.

All the shards were too far away, though.

The paint sink was behind them. Frank turned his head a fraction of a degree and spotted the paint brushes. A shiny metal handle reflected in the light, like a shiny, _shiny_ beacon.  

 

“And who might you be?” the man asked, he’d made his way to Gerard and stepped right past him, “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

He was tall and bald, sporting a black pea coat with shiny buttons. Shiny black dress shoes complimented the coat.  

“I’m not happy about this.” Frank informed.

“Well, _Not Happy About This,_ I’m Grant.” the man smiled.

“You’re going to regret what you’ve done.” Frank said.

“I don’t think I will.” Grant said curiously, “I’ve made a new friend. And now we’re networking. No regrets so far.”

“He’s not your friend.” Frank scoffed, “Friends don’t _kill_ each other.”  

“They do sometimes. Things can be confusing when you turn.” Grant offered, with a small shrug, “I don’t expect you to understand how we operate. The grass is actually quite greener on the other side. ”

“ _Frank, what the fuck are you doing?_ ” Gerard asked, still frozen in place behind Grant, “ _Run._ Get the fuck out of here.”

“Yes, Frank.” Grant agreed breathily, taking another step towards Frank, “ _Run._ Please. I love to chase.”

Frank swallowed hard.

“You know, Frank, I can’t help but think you _blame me_ for this…” Grant said thoughtfully, “That’s how it sounds. But it’s not my fault. Not really. Gerard was _begging_ for this.”

“That’s not true.” Gerard gritted out from behind Grant.

“No friends… No will to go on. Bored with his life. Uninspired. Treading water.” Grant mused, “So far from his family. Growing apart from his brother… I didn’t think anyone would notice if I took him away.”

“So what are you doing here?” Grant asked, taking another step, “You can’t be Gerard’s friend. He told me he didn’t have any of those.”

“I’m his boyfriend.” Frank offered simply.

“That’s a shame, Frank...” Grant said, frowning playfully.

“Why?” Frank asked calmly.

“Well see, the other day he sort of met someone new… _Me,_ actually. And I’m someone who can help him go places...” Grant said, “He went home with me… He never mentioned _you_ . Not once. He’s a _very_ good kisser. I’m sure you know.”

“I forgive him.” Frank said, playing along.

“He’s not yours to forgive.” Grant said, “See, that’s what I’m trying to convey here, Frank… You have two options here… You can join us… or you can _die_. Right here, right now.”

“I don’t like ultimatums.” Frank said cooly. He took a step back, bumping against the edge of the sink. He was sure his heart was racing anyways. He swallowed hard for dramatic effect. The element of surprise was key if Frank’s plan was going to work.

“Well then, I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news…” Grant said, smiling cruelly.

Frank tried his best to not think about Gerard going home with this creep as he backed towards the paintbrushes. His fingers bumped against the thick metal grip of the brush he’d spotted.

“I must say, Gerard…” Grant tutted, brushing Frank’s hair out of his face, “You have impeccable taste. Vegan blood is so… _clean_. It’s been awhile since I sampled it last. He smells great.”

 

“Do you want to live forever?” Grant asked whimsically, brushing his fingers against Frank’s neck, “Because you _can._ ”

His eyes had darkened considerably, much like Gerard’s when he was hungry or feeding. Frank secured his grip on the handle as the man stared at him curiously.

Frank felt himself tense up. The vampire was trying to get inside his head. Frank closed his eyes to try and fight it, but it was no use. His fingers loosened on the brush.

And just a moment was all it took. Frank felt the vampire reach for him. He gasped at the sharp piercing sensation in his neck, almost like… _fangs._ **_Fuck._**

It wasn’t anything like Gerard’s gentle morphine bites at his lips. The unwanted intrusion of razor sharp teeth fucking _burned._ Frank could hear Gerard helplessly calling for him above the sound of his own gasping breaths. Struggling was useless. The vampire would only make it hurt more if he struggled.

Frank bit his lip and tried to clutch for the paintbrush again. He could barely feel his fingers as they curled around the thin metal.

“Fuck you.” Frank growled.

With that, he plunged the metal end of the paintbrush into the vampire’s back as hard as he could. He was surprised by the lack of resistance. The brush went in easily.

Frank felt his flesh tear as the vampire pulled away from his neck. His eyes were black and cruel. His lips were shiny and crimson with Frank’s blood. Grant made an inhuman screech and dropped to his knees, reaching helplessly for the end of the brush sticking out of his back.

As the vampire slid onto the floor, he started to melt. Frank hadn’t remembered Grant looking so old and wrinkled. A few seconds later his skin started to slump off, revealing dark gore, almost black in color.

 

“Frank!” Gerard called out. The melting pile of gore on the floor seemed to no longer have control over Gerard. It wasn’t even vaguely human shaped anymore, hissing as it oozed into an unrecognizable shape. Gerard stared between the pile and Frank, horrified.

“Gee…” Frank said weakly, “I-”

Gerard was already pulling him away from the pile melting into the carpet.

“That can’t be good for the carpet.” Gerard observed, holding Frank close, “But there’s so much paint on it at this point, I’m not sure if it even matters.”

“ _Gerard-_ ” Frank tried again, staring at the blackening puddle over Gerard’s shoulder, “Your window.”

He reached for his neck and his fingers came away wet with blood. He could feel his heart pounding furiously, pushing the blood right out of the holes in his neck. He could feel it sliding down his chest. He covered the wound with his hand as if it would slow the bleeding.

“We’ll get it fixed, Frankie. It’s fine. It’s okay.” Gerard said, “Everything is going to be okay.”

Frank wasn’t sure which one of them he was trying to convince. He was having a hard time paying attention to what Gerard was saying.

“You’re bleeding _so much._ ” Gerard said, “Fuck, we have to stop it.”

The puddle where the vamp had fallen was starting to spread out and mix in with the broken glass. Frank didn’t know what to say. He’d never killed anyone before. His neck was _throbbing._

“Ger- ard, I-” Frank stammered, breathing shaky, letting Gerard steer him out of the room.

“He hurt you.” Gerard said quietly, “How much blood did he take? Do you feel lightheaded?”

“I don’t know.” Frank said, somewhat hysterically, “I’ve never…”

Frank couldn’t make words.

“Right.” Gerard nodded, “Stupid question.”

He closed the door behind them and turned the lock for good measure. Gerard lead them straight into the bathroom.

“Do I need stitches?” Frank asked, leaning against the sink.

Gerard’s eyes started to turn, first dark, and then pitch black. Those eyes made Frank shiver. He had to look away. Getting caught almost drained of blood in close quarters with a newly turned vampire was quite possibly the worst place to be. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like to attend to someone bleeding out - to be so hungry for what was coming out of their neck. But Gerard didn’t mention the bloodthirst, so Frank didn’t either.

“They can’t stitch this.” Gerard said, inspecting the wound, “We can’t go to a hospital. What would we tell them? We just have to… stop the bleeding. Stay calm.”

Gerard pressed a towel to Frank’s neck. Frank shivered.

“Hold it there please. If you can.” Gerard instructed. Frank weakly lifted a hand to his neck to keep the towel in place. He was grateful to have something finally stopping the blood from pouring out of his body, even if the pressure on the wounds fucking _burned._

Gerard leaned down and pulled a first aid kit out from under the sink. He started rifling through the bandages and wound care on the counter. His hands were shaking and covered in Frank’s blood. His bloody fingertips stained the white packaging. Frank almost wanted to ask him to lick it off his fingers, just to see the face he’d make.  

“Why do you have that?” Frank asked, watching Gerard rip open a package of gauze.

“Have what?” Gerard asked, glancing up at Frank.

“First aid kit.” Frank clarified.

“Oh.” Gerard said, unrolling the gauze, “Lyn-Z got it for me. I sliced my hand open when I was cutting open a case of paint awhile back. Started painting with the blood. It was cool for a night, but the scab was so stiff, I couldn’t paint for like, a week after.”  

Frank smiled.

“Hang on. I’ve never fucking done this.” Gerard said

“I’d be surprised if you had...” Frank said.

Gerard smiled a little as he pressed a gauze pad to Frank’s neck and started rolling the tape around his neck to keep it in place. The smile faded as he bit his lip in concentration.

“Why did it hurt when he bit me?” Frank asked, “It doesn’t hurt when you...”

“I don’t know.” Gerard said helplessly.

“Also I think I just _killed_ someone.” Frank blurted out, “I’ve never killed anyone...”

“If you hadn’t killed him he would’ve killed you.” Gerard soothed, furrowing his brow as he worked to secure the gauze, “Both of us, probably.”

“Not you.” Frank said darkly, letting his eyes fall closed, “He liked you.”

Gerard made a pained noise.

“Frank,” Gerard sighed, “I’m sorry you had to hear-”

“It doesn’t matter, Gee.” Frank promised, opening his eyes again, “I don’t care. I’m sorry I brought it up. It was petty.”

“No, _Frank._ ” Gerard protested, “If I…”

Gerard paused to sigh.

“If I’d known I could’ve been with you that night...” Gerard explained.

“You don’t have to say that, Gee.” Frank said, “I have no right to be jealous.”

“But it’s _true._ ” Gerard said, “Frank, _I love you._ ”

Frank wanted to hear it, wanted to _feel it_ , wanted it to be true, but when he looked into Gerard’s eyes all he saw was black.

“I always have.” Gerard continued, “I need you to know that.”

 

“What if there are more of them?” Frank asked, changing the subject.

“...I think he was alone.” Gerard said, “I felt weird when we got back here and I couldn’t figure out _why_ … But the feeling is gone now. I think it was him.”

“Why didn’t you say something?” Frank asked, sounding more upset than he meant to. He’d been feeling weird too, since they’d left the fucking gallery.

“I don’t know. I’ve been feeling weird all night, Frank.” Gerard explained, “Ever since last night… I thought it was just… _you._ ”

Frank shook his head. He couldn’t tear the image from the forefront of his mind, even as he closed his eyes and focused on breathing. He could still feel his skin tear with the vampire’s fangs, still see those horrible eyes.  

“I don’t know if you can hear me right now.” Gerard said quietly, peeling the towel back to inspect Frank’s neck, “Like, really _hear me._ But thank you, Frank. You just fucking _avenged me_ , you know? I owe you.”

  


Frank let Gerard work on him. He cleaned the drying blood off with a warm washcloth. Even Frank could smell the iron tinge of blood overwhelming the bathroom. He couldn’t imagine what it must’ve been like for Gerard. Swaying on his feet a little, he reached over and flipped on the overhead fan to try and suck the blood smell out of the air.

He let Gerard guide a clean sweatshirt over his head, avoiding the bandages, and help him stand up properly. As Frank turned around, arm slung over Gerard’s shoulder for support, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. There was glitter all over his face. Smears of his own blood had dried to his jawline. His skin was paler than pale from the bloodloss.

Even stranger was the empty space beside him where Gerard should be. His arm was draped unnaturally in thin air.

Frank had to glance over at Gerard to make sure he was still there. Gerard frowned as he realized what Frank had seen. Gerard dared a glance towards the mirror. He immediately looked back to Frank again.

“Weird.” Frank said.

“Yeah.”Gerard sighed and helped Frank out of the bathroom.

The adrenaline had worn off entirely. Frank felt weak and lightheaded. He was useless on his feet, nearly tripping over nothing in the hallway.

His eyes were already heavy as Gerard lowered him onto the blankets.

“This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go...” Frank observed with a heavy tongue.

“ _You’re telling me._ ” Gerard said, letting out a breath of a laugh.

When Frank looked up at him, his fangs weren’t out anymore. His eyes had returned to their pretty hazel color.

“I think I have to go clean up the mess… Or, try to, anyways.” Gerard informed, leaning over Frank to press his lips against Frank’s forehead.

Frank blinked his eyes open wider. Gerard was going to be the one to clean up his own murderer’s remains. That hardly seemed fair, but Frank was in no position to volunteer and Mikey was still across _the fucking ocean._

“Don’t leave me.” Frank requested, “The carpet’s already ruined. You said so yourself.”

“Yeah, but…” Gerard trailed off. He was already curling up to Frank’s side, though.

Frank willed his eyes to stay open. He stared up at the drawings and magazine cutouts Gerard had taped to the ceiling, trying his hardest to focus on staying awake.

“You should’ve gotten on that plane with James...” Gerard said, expression unreadable, “You shouldn’t even have been here at all.”

“Yeah it definitely seems like you would’ve handled all of that just fine on your own.” Frank offered sarcastically.

“I’m serious, Frank…” Gerard complained.

“Sorry.” Frank said.

“I promised you wouldn’t get hurt.” Gerard explained, propping himself up on his elbow to gaze down at Frank.

Frank could see the guilt in his face.

“You promised you wouldn’t hurt me, not that I wouldn’t get hurt.” Frank corrected.

Gerard rolled his eyes.

“Do I get a prize for avenging you?” Frank asked, closing his eyes and swallowing against a wave of weak nausea that swirled over him. His mouth was dry. His throat hurt. His fucking _neck_ hurt. He wanted something more for the burning pain but he didn’t know how to ask for it.

“Anything you want.” Gerard said, gingerly curling an arm around Frank’s middle.  

"Just stay with me." Frank requested. His voice sounded small and fuzzy and far away, like it was coming through headphones with the volume turned down. It was then that a darkness deeper than bloodlusting eyes closed in on him.   
~


	4. Sweet Tooth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the always-open wound!

Pain. It hurt before Frank had even opened his eyes. It felt like his neck was on fire. He tried to shift on the mattress. His limbs were heavy and stiff. He blinked his eyes open carefully.

A beam of sunlight cut across the foot of the bed, from where the blackout curtains had been left hanging open a fraction of an inch.  
Daylight. Gerard should be gone, but Frank could still feel the weight of an arm draped around his middle. There was no sound of breath. No movement of any kind. No warmth. Gerard wasn’t breathing. Frank wondered if the vampire had gone to sleep.

“Frank?” Gerard asked hoarsely. Not asleep.

“Hey.” Frank said. His tongue felt heavy. He tried to swallow gingerly and it aggravated the stretch of bandaged flesh across his collarbone.

Frank tried to move his head, just enough to look in Gerard’s direction. The motion was stiff, pulling at the gauze wrapped around his neck. He winced at the flash of pain.

“Don’t move.” Gerard said, lifting himself off the bed enough to lean over Frank. His eyes searched Frank’s, burning and bright.  

He looked different in the fraction of sunlight refracting through the room. His brown eyes were red-rimmed. His skin was ghostly white.

“It’s daylight.” Frank observed quietly.

“I’m okay.” Gerard promised, “How are you feeling?”

Frank closed his eyes.

“ _Hurts._ ” he said.

“I couldn’t leave. I kinda freaked out after you passed out.” Gerard said, “I’m not really sure how I got turned, so I was worried that maybe you’d wake up _dead_ , _like me_ … All the forums I found online said if your heart stopped you might turn, but those were for like, _roleplaying,_ not real vampirism so...”

“Did you just say ‘ _wake up dead_ ’?” Frank asked. He kind of _felt_ dead. Stale and empty and in pain, “Wait, roleplaying?”

“I tried to check myself for bite marks, but I don’t feel anything.” Gerard went on, reaching up to brush his fingers over his own neck, “But I can’t see myself in the mirror so I couldn’t rule that out. I’m sorry. This is probably a lot right now. Do you want something for the pain?”

“Please.” Frank said, almost nodding, but then thinking better of it.

“You’re not like, weirdly thirsty are you?” Gerard asked.

“Uh. I am actually.” Frank said, wide-eyed, “ _...For coffee._ ”

Frank could see the transition from concern to understanding to pure vexation flash across Gerard’s face.

“Don’t fuck with me.” Gerard breathed, fighting a smile, shoving at Frank.

Frank groaned as the pain in his neck burned.

“Fuck. Sorry.” Gerard said, immediately sobering, “I just… don’t know what the fuck I’d do if you were a vampire too.”

“Mikey’ll be back in a few days...” Frank said, “We could make him deal with it.”

Frank tried to lift himself off the mattress carefully, keeping his back and neck as straight as possible. His neck fucking _burned._ It was worse than the final agonizing hour of sitting for a full color tattoo. His body was weak and tight all over. His nerves were beyond shot, like after the adrenaline crash.

“Are you sure you should be getting up?” Gerard asked hesitantly, “I could bring you coffee, you know?”

“Show me the way to the pain management…” Frank requested, scooting the edge of the bed and putting his feet on the floor experimentally.

He bit his lip to brace against the pain as he stood up slowly. He put a hand on the bed frame to support himself. He breathed through the wave of burning as he adjusted his posture. It fucking _sucked._

“I don’t have anything fun.” Gerard reminded, “But I’m sure there’s something that- _Ah. Fuck._ ” Gerard hissed out a breath.

 

When Frank turned, painfully, Gerard was holding his hand protectively against his chest.

“I touched the sunlight...” Gerard explained, holding his hand out gingerly to inspect the damage, “Really should’ve closed the fucking curtains I guess...”

Frank rolled his eyes, since shaking his head was out of the question.

He found himself scanning the house for patches of sunlight as he made careful steps into the hallway. His head was spinning and pounding at the same time. It was a new, dizzying kind of pain. He shut the door to Gerard’s office when he noticed the curtains were open. Even if Gerard hadn’t been right behind him, Frank would’ve closed the door anyways. The light hurt his eyes.

 

Frank leaned against the counter as Gerard got the coffee started. He tried to not think about the night before, but not thinking about it turned into focusing on it. He tried to focus on what had been happening before that other vampire had showed up. They’d been so _close_ and now it felt as though it had all happened to someone else.

“I talked to Mikey this morning...” Gerard said, pulling a mug down as the coffee pot hissed and gurgled.

“How is he?” Frank asked.

“I told him about last night.” Gerard said, “A shortened version, of course. International calling rates and all... I’m going to transfer the deed to the house to his name when he gets back, so vampires can’t come in without his permission. I’m not sure if it works that way. Call me paranoid...”

“No, that’s… probably a _really good idea._ ” Frank said.

Frank blinked, wondering if Gerard had mentioned the state of things between the two of them to Mikey. He couldn’t decide if he _wanted_ Mikey to know or not. The two of them had been close once, but Frank wasn’t sure how the younger Way felt about him, post dumping-his-older-brother-in-an-ICU. He could understand if they weren’t exactly…. _cool_ now.

“Here.” Gerard said, dropping two white pills into Frank’s hand, “They’re for migraines. They work better than the over the counter stuff.”

Frank popped them into his mouth and got himself a glass of water. The bitter taste of the pills on his tongue remained after he’d swallowed them down with water and he grimaced before taking another sip.

“That bad?” Gerard asked, obviously staring.

“No.” Frank said.

Gerard was in his space, sliding a careful hand on his shoulder, a few inches away from the expanse of bandages. Frank could feel them, tight around his neck. He held his breath as Gerard stared.

“I wanna check your neck.” Gerard said casually, “We should change your bandages.”

“Do we have to?” Frank asked.

“Yes.” Gerard said, “... _Please._ ”

Gerard beckoned for Frank to follow him into the bathroom. Frank hesitated for a moment before following.

“If something happens in the daylight I can’t drive you to the hospital.” Gerard explained, unwrapping a fresh package of gauze, “So just humor me for a day or so.”

“I thought you said they couldn’t stitch it anyways?” Frank said.

“Infections don’t need stitches.” Gerard countered, “And I wouldn’t bet my life on your immune system...”  

Frank glared. Because he couldn’t argue. He begrudgingly hopped up onto the counter, when Gerard motioned for him to. His immune system didn’t have a great track record. He hated Gerard for remembering.

“Well, you’re technically not alive.” Frank pointed out.

Gerard just smiled, and then he was in Frank’s space, carefully unwrapping the bandages.

Frank let his eyes flutter closed as the gauze loosened from his neck. He sort of wanted to see the wound in the mirror, but he also really fucking didn’t. The cool air stung as it hit the tender flesh. Frank held his breath against the shock of pain.

“Fuck.” Gerard said quietly, “He really fucking _bit you._ ”

“I was _there._ ” Frank reminded through clenched teeth, “It _sucked._ ”

When he opened his eyes, Gerard was still smiling. The used gauze pads in his hand were black. Not blood-black, but _unnaturally black._

Gerard reached to turn the tap on. The sound of the water hitting the basin of the sink filled Frank’s ears. It was too loud. It was almost like being hungover after a night of mixing too many intoxicants.

“What’re you…” Frank asked abortively.

“I want to clean it.” Gerard said simply, eyes darkening.

“That sounds bad.” Frank said.

“I’ll make it worth your while.” Gerard suggested evenly. He wet the fresh gauze and brought it up to Frank’s neck, hovering a few inches away from the skin. Frank eyed the wadded guaze unhappily.

“How?” Frank asked.

“Whatever you want.” Gerard shrugged, “Ice cream? A pony?”

“How about a vampire pony?” Frank suggested.

“I don’t think those exist.” Gerard said, mouth twitching at another smile.

Frank glared as Gerard gently dabbed at his neck. At first it stung, then it fucked _burned._ Frank bit his lip and stared at the collar of Gerard’s t-shirt, trying to will the pain away.

“Wait. Take your shirt off.” Frank requested breathlessly, reaching out to glide his fingers over Gerard’s neck.

Gerard paused and gave him a quizzical look.

“That wasn’t a distraction. I wanna check you for bite marks.” Frank explained.

“Oh.” Gerard paused. He set the gauze down and took a step back to pull his t-shirt over his head.

Frank’s eyes were immediately wandering. There was so much of Gerard he hadn’t really gotten the chance to revisit just yet. Murderous ex-boyfriend-stealing vampires, had sort of gotten in the way of that.

Gerard could probably tell Frank wasn’t looking for bite marks, so Frank started to actually look for them. He slid his open hand over Gerard’s collar bone. Gerard’s skin was neutral and smooth under his fingers, no raised scars, no imperfections of any kind.

Frank sucked in a breath as Gerard resumed dabbing at the wound. His neck felt less stiff, now that Gerard had loosened the dried blood around the edges of the wound. He tried to focus on tracing his fingers over Gerard’s neck, feeling for bite marks.

The rusty smell of blood filled Frank’s nose. Gerard’s eyes darkened considerably as it got stronger. His mouth curved into a stiff frown.

Gerard’s hair was soft against the back of Frank’s hand, and as it slipped through his fingers. Frank really fucking wanted to go curl up somewhere and sleep this whole thing off with Gerard wrapped around him. The smell of coffee wafted into the bathroom, fighting with the smell of blood, until it created a sickening mixture.

“I told him I was your boyfriend.” Frank said quietly, pausing with his fingers at the nape of Gerard’s neck.  

“You did.” Gerard agreed stiffly, tossing the bloody gauze pad into the small trash can beside the sink. The plastic packaging crinkled as Gerard reached for more gauze.

“I needed him to know that you already belonged somewhere.” Frank explained, “He had no right to take you away.”

“Telling the guy who literally killed me that you’re my boyfriend before killing him was like…” Gerard paused, “Maybe the most romantic thing you’ve ever done for me. In a _you_ kind of way.”

“More romantic than dumping you in the ICU?” Frank quipped.

Gerard froze. For the briefest of moments Frank was fucking scared, because Gerard gave him this _look._ It reminded Frank all too much of the look Grant had given him before biting into Frank’s neck. It wasn’t totally out of the realm of possibility that Gerard would snap and drink Frank dry. After last night, Frank had kind of been waiting for it. He held his breath.  

“Listen…” Gerard said after a beat, blinking away whatever had been going on in his head, “I probably would’ve dumped me, too.”

Frank let out a shaky breath.

Gerard pressed a dry gauze pad to Frank’s neck and reached for the medical tape. Frank hissed at the unwelcome pressure as Gerard held the gauze in place.

“Sorry.” Gerard said under his breath, pressing on the gauze in place a little more gently as he wrapped the tape around Frank’s neck.

“So… you forgive me?” Frank asked hesitantly, “...For how I ended things?”

“I didn’t realize you were apologizing.” Gerard said.

“ _Gee…_ ” Frank said, “You have to know how sorry I am.”

Frank almost wished Gerard still had his shirt on so that he’d have something to stop him from pulling away. The gauze pad dropped into Frank’s lap as it slipped from Gerard’s fingers. The piece of medical tape hung loosely off his shoulder, feather-light against his upper arm.

“But would it kill you to say it?” Gerard asked bitterly, a flash of fangs poking out from under his lips,“I _died_ waiting for you to say it, Frank.”

“I’m sorry.” Frank said immediately, “Fucking sorry as shit.”

The words were easy. Weightless. They felt almost completely meaningless on his tongue.

“I would’ve broken up with me too.” Gerard said again, voice thick and morose.

“But I _deserted you._ ” Frank said, “When you needed me.”

“I didn’t really give you a choice.” Gerard said, eyes black now. He stepped back into Frank’s space. He picked up the gauze and held it to the wound on Frank’s neck. His other hand wove the medical tape around Frank’s neck.

“If you hadn’t left I never would’ve gotten better.” Gerard added, through gritted teeth, “We probably wouldn’t even be having this conversation right now.”  

Frank bit his lip and death-gripped the edge of the counter. The wound was on fire and the fire was spreading. He took a breath in through his nose.

“Mikey said I shouldn’t have told you how I feel…” Gerard said quietly, “Like maybe I don’t feel what I think I feel? He said… my emotions are all over the place. It’s like a side effect of being dead.”

When Frank looked up Gerard’s eyes had lightened a few shades. He stared into Frank’s eyes, curious and sad.

“I don’t know who I hate the most right now.” Gerard admitted, “I don’t know if I hate _me_ , for getting you fucking bitten. Or if I hate _you_ , for not needing me as much as I need you. Or if I hate _Mikey_ , for not trusting me.”

“Well…” Frank said, swallowing hard, “How did you feel about me before you died?”

He almost didn’t want to know. He didn’t _deserve_ to know.

“ _I loved you._ ” Gerard said weakly, frowning thoughtfully, “I know I did. Death hasn’t changed that.”

 

Frank’s lips were on Gerard’s before he could even think about it. He could feel the outline of Gerard’s fangs behind his lips. And when Frank pulled back, Gerard’s eyes were closed. Frank brushed a lock of hair out of Gerard’s face, and traced it back behind his ear.

“How did _you_ feel about me before I died?” Gerard asked.

It was a fair question, but Frank had no interest in answering.

Gerard gently curled his fingers around Frank’s good arm as he waited Frank out.

“I don’t know.” Frank said honestly, tripping on his own feelings, “I never got closure. Me and you was always an open wound...”

When Gerard opened his eyes again, they were blacker than black, full of murderous intent. Gerard’s sharp white fangs protruded as he opened his mouth and spoke.

“I’m sorry. I think I need to go.” he said. He pulled away from Frank, head bowed.

Frank caught his wrist and gripped it tight, but Gerard effortlessly jerked free.

“ _Gerard,_ ” Frank coaxed, “Let me finish. I didn’t mean-”

“I kind of want your fucking blood.” Gerard bit out, cutting Frank off, “All over the walls. Your heart is beating so... _loudly._ I think it’s the daylight. I’m sorry. I have to _go._ ”  

Frank could feel his heart up the tempo as realization hit him. Gerard was already out of the bathroom, racing off somewhere to hide.

Frank held still and listened, to try and figure out where Gerard might have gone. All he could hear was the coffee pot gurgling, and the squeak of a door somewhere else in the house.

 

It couldn’t have possibly been the fresh wound on Frank’s neck, Frank thought sarcastically. It was almost like a newly turned bloodthirsty vampire shouldn’t have been changing the dressing on a bloody open wound on a human neck.

Frank sighed. They’d been having a moment before that and now it was gone.

 

“When did you eat last?” Frank asked loudly into the house. He knew Gerard could hear him, wherever he was.

He wandered into the kitchen to fix Gerard a mug of blood. The Count Chocula mug clinked as Frank set it down on the counter. He emptied the rest of a container of blood into it. He needed to go to the butcher shop. Gerard was going through the blood faster and faster.

Frank popped the mug into the microwave and got out another mug for himself.  

“It’s okay. We just need to get some blood in you.” Frank said to no one in particular, loud enough so Gerard could still hear.

 

Frank carried the mug of warm blood down the hallway. The door to the basement was open just a few inches. Frank opened the door to Gerard’s office, flooding the hallway with light.

Frank set Gerard’s mug in front of the open basement door.

“Breakfast.” he said.

 

As Frank walked back towards the kitchen, he closed the office door, letting the shadows sweep back over the hallway.

After fixing himself a cup of coffee, Frank carried his mug into the living room. He set the coffee on top of the coffin and pulled the blackout curtains back. He found a place to sit on the carpet, in the square of sunlight shining in through the window. Frank couldn’t get his eyes to adjust to the shadowed corners of the room.

 

“Come have coffee with me.” Frank requested to the silent house. He rested against Gerard’s coffin and curled his fingers around the mug. The sunlight warmed the skin on Frank’s back through his borrowed sweatshirt.

“Gerard?” Frank tried, “I’ll tell you a bedtime story...”  

There was a wisp of noise in the corner of the room. Frank snapped his gaze in the direction the sound had come from. He could make out the lines of Gerard’s pale face in the shadows. It was hard to see the rest of the vampire with the sun in his eyes.

“Hi.” Frank said, taking a sip of coffee.

“It hurts to look at you.” Gerard said.

“Good.” Frank said, “Maybe it would hurt if you tried to drag me out of the sun and spray my blood all over the walls, too.”

“Don’t joke about that.” Gerard scolded, “You know I wouldn’t.”

“But you’ve thought about it.” Frank pointed out, “That’s what you said, right?”  

“I was just trying to be honest with you.” Gerard suggested, “You know, it would only require a millisecond of burning to drag you out of that patch of sunlight anyways.” He sat down on the floor in the shadows, across from Frank.

“But I wouldn’t do it.” he added.

“Damn. This seemed like pretty foolproof vampire repellant.” Frank said.

“The only way to protect yourself is to leave and never come back.” Gerard said simply.

“Well, my return flight isn’t for a few days because _someone_ had me change the date.” Frank reminded, “And anyways can we go back to the part where you were begging me to take you back. I liked that a lot better than this ‘leave and never come back’ business.”

“I’m a monster, Frank.” Gerard said, “I was _jealous_ when he ripped your neck open. Do you understand that? I was _jealous._ I wanted to be the one to do it.”

“I told you I was comfortable experimenting?” Frank shrugged.

“You’re afraid of me.” Gerard said, “I can see it in your eyes sometimes.”

“Don’t even guilt me with that shit. You’re eyes get all black and murdery sometimes.” Frank defended, hiding a smile by sipping his coffee, “I’m allowed to be afraid of that. It’s _terrifying._ ”

Gerard nodded.

“That doesn’t mean I have to leave and never come back.” Frank added, “Unless that’s what you want.”

“I don’t know what I want.” Gerard sighed.

“That’s okay, too.” Frank said, “Just, let me know when you figure it out.”

It was strange how easy it was to talk about it. It wouldn’t have been so easy if Gerard was anyone else. Fight with anyone for long enough, and certain things just became comfortable to say. It didn’t even hurt to think of never seeing Gerard again. Not really.

 

Frank set his mug down. He wanted Gerard to come stretch out on the carpet with him and lay in the sun, impossible as it would’ve been.

 

“You said you were gonna tell me a bedtime story.” Gerard reminded.

“Well, what do you wanna hear?” Frank asked, leaning back against the coffin,“Retelling of the Nightmare Before Christmas?”

The wood of the coffin was warmed from the sunlight.

“Tell me something you remember about us.” Gerard requested.

“About…” Frank faltered.

“Us. You and me.” Gerard clarified, “Before…”

“Okay...” Frank said, clearing his throat, “Let’s see...”

His mind went blank as he searched for a memory that wasn’t sad. He remembered lots of scattered details. Gerard’s old room. Gerard’s friends. Gerard’s brother. Gerard’s CD collection. The scattered beer cans. Gerard’s figurines...

“Your headless horseman figurine.” Frank said with a smile curling at his lips, “Your mom got it for you for Christmas that one year. You loved it more than anything. More than Mikey. More than me.”

Gerard was quiet for a moment, sipping delicately on the mug in his hands.

“I still have it.” Gerard said, after he’d swallowed, “It’s in a box at my mom’s place.”

“When I went over to your place to get my stuff…” Frank said, “I thought about taking the pumpkin head that was tucked under his arm. But you’d know it was me.”

“I probably would’ve killed you.” Gerard snorted.

“See? You’ve always had murderous tendencies, especially where I’m involved.” Frank said, aiming at comforting, “This is nothing new.”

“This is definitely the worst bedtime story I’ve ever heard in my entire life.” Gerard said, “ _Unlife,_ I guess.”  

Frank laughed as he crawled out of the sunlight and into the shadows.

As Frank’s eyes adjusted he found Gerard sitting up against the wall. He considered Frank with a heavy gaze, eyes dark.

“Are you feeling better?” Frank asked, sitting across from Gerard on the floor, “Any less thirsty?”

“A little.” Gerard nodded, “I think the cravings are just worse in the daylight.”

“Well, I guess I should tuck you in then.” Frank said.

“I don’t wanna sleep.” Gerard said, running a hand through his dark hair, “I can’t protect you if I’m asleep.”

“You’re the only thing I need protecting from right now, Gee.” Frank coaxed, letting out a breath of a laugh, “It’s day time. All your little friends are asleep.”

Gerard bit his lip and set down his empty mug.

“And if they’re going to be crashing through your ceiling, I’ll need you come nightfall.” Frank said, “You’ll be of no use to me if you’re tired.”

“I didn’t seem to be of much use last night.” Gerard frowned, but he seemed to agree with Frank. He shifted his weight and let out a deep sigh.

“You think there are more of them?” Gerard added thoughtfully, “I was sort of hoping there wouldn’t be...”

Frank shrugged. He didn’t want there to be any more vampires either. His neck couldn’t afford any more bites like the one he’d already suffered.

 

“We’ll have to make sure we move your coffin downstairs tonight. You still haven’t tried sleeping in it yet.” Frank observed, getting to his feet. He bent over to pick up Gerard’s mug.

Frank moved into the kitchen and set Gerard’s mug in the sink. He ran the tap into it for a moment to soak.

“I sort of thought _you_ might not want to...” Gerard said, startlingly close, somewhere behind Frank. Frank turned to find Gerard was standing right behind him.

“Sleep in the coffin, I mean.” Gerard finished.

“Well…” Frank started.

“But wait, don’t tell me…” Gerard smirked, rolling his eyes, “You’re comfortable _experimenting._ ”

 

“I think it’s way past your bedtime.” Frank said casually, smiling back. He put a hand on Gerard’s chest to push him back towards the basement door. Gerard stepped back easily.

He was letting Frank get closer as they moved, pulling the human boy in with his eyes. Frank told himself he was still in control as he let himself be pulled. Gerard stopped against the wall, to the right of the basement door.

“I’ll have to think of a bedtime story to tell you later.” Gerard mused, wrapping his arms around Frank’s waist, “Won’t be hard to come up with something better than yours...”

“I wasn’t _done._ ” Frank complained.

Gerard’s gaze darted from Frank’s eyes to his lips and back.

“I have blood breath.” he warned morosely, “I can still _taste it._ ”

“Well, I’m going to have to get used to it at some point.” Frank offered quietly.

“ _No way._ ” Gerard pouted, “That’s gross. Get away from me.” There was no room for him to back away, though.

“Stop looking at me like that then.” Frank requested.

“Like what?” Gerard asked.

“Like you want me to kiss you.” Frank said, closing the distance between their mouths for a quick kiss, “Now go the fuck to sleep. _Please._ ”

“Kay.” Gerard breathed, reaching for the doorknob.

“I’ll be okay. I’ll be waiting for you here when the sun goes down.” Frank promised.

Gerard nodded, once.

Frank leaned in to peck Gerard’s cheek, and then the vampire slipped into the dark of the basement.

~

 

Frank sipped on his third cup of coffee, feeling dizzy and lightheaded as he stared at his computer screen. His feet were propped up on the coffin. His legs were warmed by the sun.

He couldn’t decide if the caffeine on an empty stomach or all the blood loss was to blame for the nauseous feeling. It was probably some unholy combination.

Frank sighed and typed “ _vegetarian foods to replenish blood supply_ ” into the search engine. He would have to figure out some kind of nutrition plan if he was going to be spending time around Gerard. Apparently, even if Gerard had no intention of ever drinking Frank’s blood, someone else might. Frank might as well make sure he was getting enough protein.

Thoughts of tofu had Frank searching for Gerard’s car keys. He patted down his own pockets, before realizing that Gerard had driven them home the night before. Frank had taken Gerard’s jacket off in the art studio, which meant the jacket was probably... still on the floor, next to a big bloody stain in the carpet.

Frank set down his mug and covered his face with his hands. How had his weekend getaway tour date with James come to this? Frank had just told his literal _vampire_ of an ex-boyfriend that he didn’t mind the blood breath less than two hours ago, and now he had to retrieve the car keys from the room he’d almost been sucked dry in the night before.

Tofu and fucking _iron supplements_ had Frank getting up off the couch anyways. They needed coffee, and coffee filters, too. And Gerard needed more blood if Frank ever wanted to get anywhere near Gerard’s mouth ever again.  
Frank wasn’t sure why he felt like he had to be quiet as he tiptoed towards Gerard’s studio. The only person who could hear him was Gerard, and Gerard was probably fast asleep by now. He pushed the door open easily, holding his breath in case the smell lingered.

Gerard had, apparently, tried to steam-clean the blood out of the carpet. A steam-cleaner sat, still plugged in, beside the dark stain in the carpet. The water inside its clear chamber was black with blood. Frank added ‘carpet cleaning solution’ to his mental shopping list.

He spotted Gerard’s coat on the floor, where he’d left it the night before, and dragged it from the room with chills running down his spine. His heart was pounding away. Gerard would probably fucking hear it all the way downstairs, if he wasn’t already out cold.

Once he had slammed the studio door behind him, Frank slid Gerard’s jacket on and felt for the car keys. He didn’t turn around once as he left the house and climbed into Gerard’s car. The sun was well into the sky, and the sunlight warmed the fabric of Gerard’s jacket, still cool from having been in the dark for so long.

~

 

Frank dropped several plastic shopping bags on Gerard’s kitchen counter and huffed out a sigh. He glanced around at the silent, quickly darkening house around him.  
One hell of a caffeine crash before the sun had started sinking hadn’t exactly been to his benefit, but the exhaustion couldn’t be explained away by caffeine alone. The fatigue of his injuries was really starting to set in. His neck still fucking hurt, and he felt stiff all over. His body was trying to heal itself. He wouldn’t be able to plunge a metal paintbrush into the back of a vampire if his life depended on it. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that again tonight.

Shopping had been a draining experience. The deli clerk and the cashier had asked about the bandage on his neck. A new, healing tattoo seemed to explain it all away just fine, but the experience had still put Frank on edge. He was seriously considering a black bandana for his neck. All that aside, it had taken forever to check all the labels at the grocery store in order to find foods that didn’t contain garlic.

He’d stopped into a store with _L.A._ keychains in the window, intent on finding a ‘thank you’ gift for his mom for watching Peppers. It hadn’t been a souvenir store though, Frank had found himself in an aisle of candles and crosses. He nearly walked into a display of rosaries hanging down from the ceiling. The beads caressed his face. It was then, as he held the tiny pendant of Jesus on the cross, that all the movies about vampires came rushing in. Frank had been, _inspired._

The sky was just starting to burn with the promise of sunset. Frank briefly stopped putting things away to pour Gerard a mug of blood, and popped it into the microwave.

The whir of the microwave filled the silence as Frank sorted out the rest of his groceries. He’d gotten ingredients for a blood-replenishing stir-fry. The frozen sauce mix needed time to thaw. It was the only kind he had found that didn’t contain some form of garlic.

Frank put a CD on and cracked a beer. He didn’t want to wake Gerard early, but the silence was already getting to him. The vampire had been out for a solid 8 hours, but Frank was still iffy on how much sleep vampires actually needed. Google had left him with some pretty inconclusive suggestions.

What Frank actually needed was some kind of manual. It was a shame he’d gone and stabbed the next best thing in the chest with a paintbrush.

There had to be other vampires out there. It was a big city after all. But something told Frank that other vamps were about as friendly as Grant had been, and Frank’s neck wasn’t ready for that.

The kitchen glowed with the colors of the sun lowering on the horizon as Frank sipped his beer thoughtfully. Gerard’s house had such nice natural light. Under different circumstances it would’ve actually been pleasant. Frank sort of got why Gerard had picked the place. The lighting must’ve been nice for painting.

Frank needed to call his Mom. He needed to call James too. Hell, he probably needed to call his label and make sure everything was squared away for their upcoming New Orleans date.

He reached into the remaining shopping bag on the counter. His fingers glided over the beads of a plastic rosary.  
He heard the basement door creak open, so he spun around slowly, keeping his fingers on the beads in the bag.

 

Frank immediately noticed something was off. The expression on Gerard’s face gave him away.

“Hey. What’s up?” Frank asked carefully, trying to feel the vampire out.

Gerard stood against the wall by the door, eyes locked on Frank. There was something wrong with his eyes. They were too round, too dark around the edges. Dark circles carved out underneath his eyes and sunk them too deep into his face. He regarded Frank with a blank stare.

Frank swore he could see the outline of Gerard’s skull. His high-cheekbones, his hollow eyes. He looked like _death._

“Uh, _hey._ ”  Frank tried again, “ _Gee._ ”

“Hey.” Gerard said, almost robotically, huge empty eyes sizing Frank up.

The microwave beeped loudly, startling the shit out of Frank. He wasn’t about to turn his back on the vampire now, even though Gerard was obviously in desperate need of blood.

“You’re just in time for dinner.” Frank said, aiming at casual, “How’d you sleep?”

“ _Okay…_ ” Gerard said vacantly, “Pretty hungry...”

Gerard started stepping towards Frank. Frank’s fingers closed around a piece of rough wood underneath the rosary in the shopping bag.

“Your heart is beating... _so fast._ ” Gerard observed, eyes huge and terrifying.

“Yeah well, you’re scaring me a little.” Frank said nonchalantly.

“No need to be scared…” Gerard soothed.

Frank saw right through the vampire’s false comfort. Gerard took another step forward and Frank brandished a wooden crucifix in his face. The vampire backed off, as if in pain. He bent over, dropping to his knees as he uttered a horrific choking sound.

Frank lowered the crucifix. He hadn’t meant to _hurt_ Gerard, he’d just meant to help him figure out how to back the fuck up.

“Huh….” Frank observed, glancing down at the wooden object in his hand, “Didn’t think that would actually work.”

The hand holding onto the cross was shaking. In fact, Frank was shaking all over.

When Gerard glanced up, his face was back to normal. All traces of those bloodlusting skeletal outlines had vanished. His teeth were still out, and his eyes were still just as cruel.

“Hungry?” Frank asked, backing up towards the microwave. He paused, with his hand on the microwave door.

“What the fuck did you…” Gerard trailed off, out of breath.

“It’s a crucifix.” Frank explained, holding it up again, “A cross?”  

Gerard’s eyes twisted shut in pain as he tried to look at it again.

“Sorry.” Frank said, lowering the object again.

“Where the fuck did you get that?” Gerard asked roughly, “And _why?_ ”

“99 cent store.” Frank explained. He pulled the microwave door open and reached for the mug, trying to not spill any of the blood without taking his eyes off of the vampire. He set the mug down on the floor, near Gerard. He dared not hand the mug over directly. It put his blood-filled veins much too close to Gerard’s mouth.

“Seems like I’m going to need it.” Frank added thoughtfully. He stuck the crucifix into the pocket of his sweatshirt. The crossbeam jutted out of the fabric at an awkward angle.

“How did you sleep?” Frank asked, watching as the vampire sucked down his first mug of the evening.

“I needed to sleep...” Gerard replied vaguely.

“Still wanna eat me?” Frank asked, running his fingers over the wood in his sweatshirt pocket.

“Less than usual.” Gerard said, “Is there more… um?”

Gerard tilted his empty mug towards Frank.

“Oh yeah.” Frank said, turning just a little to open the fridge and pull out the container. He held his breath as he passed it over to Gerard, who took the top off and immediately started sucking it down.

“Did you want me to… _heat that..._ ” Frank trailed off, watching curiously.

Gerard lowered the container and stared at Frank, huffing out a satisfied breath.

“Please don’t watch me do this...” Gerard said shyly.

 

Frank had to blink at his sudden change in demeanor. His eyes were lighter, gentler. He’d returned to his usual slouch, and perpetual frown.

“I’m sorry. I’m just sort of worried that if I turn my back for a second, you’re gonna try to eat me.” Frank explained, “You’d be totally _fucked_ if you ate me, by the way. I hope you realize that. And you still owe me one after last night. You can’t eat me ‘til we’re even.”

“I know.” Gerard smiled, revealing his glimmer of fangs, “I won’t eat you, Frank. I just wanted a _taste._ ”

Gerard rose to his feet and took another sip of blood.

“How’s your neck?” he asked after he’d swallowed.

“Hurts.” Frank said, “Thanks for asking.”

Frank flinched as Gerard stepped closer. He was still sort of shaky, feeling defenseless, and Gerard was _fast._ The vampire brought his fingers to the hemline of Frank’s t-shirt.

“Um… So I was thinking… I need you to do something for me.” Frank requested, keeping his eyes on the ground as he changed the subject.

“What is it?” Gerard asked, putting the lid back on the blood container and moving around Frank to put it back in the fridge.

Frank followed Gerard’s movements carefully, thinking back to the rosary in the grocery bag on the counter, trying to calculate if he could use it if he needed the backup. Would it even work the way the crucifix had?

“I need you to use your mind control on me.” Frank said.

Gerard spun around, and gave Frank a worried look. All traces of bloodlust had vanished completely from his features.

“What for?” the vampire asked plainly.

“I need you to make me not afraid.” Frank explained, “I don’t want to be afraid anymore.”

“I don’t understand.” Gerard said, narrowing his eyes. He wasn’t going to make it easy for Frank. He never did.

“I need you to turn off the fear completely, if you can.” Frank said, “After last night, fear just… got in my way.”

“ _Oh._ ” Gerard said.

“Please.” Frank begged, “You said you owe me one.”

“Frank, I don’t…” Gerard faltered, obviously not following, “I don’t know if it works like that? I have to command it, you know? What the hell am I supposed to say to make you… stop being afraid? That’s kind of a tall order.”

“Well, we can try a couple things?” Frank asked. He almost shrugged. It still hurt to shrug.

Gerard frowned at Frank for a second before giving him a small, begrudging nod.

“I mean… I could probably make you forget?” Gerard suggested, "Do you want to _forget?_ ”

“What the hell would you tell me when I ask about the gaping wound on my neck later?” Frank pointed out.

“You… _fell_?” Gerard said vaguely. The corner of his mouth twitched in amusement.  

“You’re a terrible liar.” Frank reminded, smiling, “I don’t want you editing my memories until you’re better at lying.”

Gerard was back in Frank’s space. His eyes were bright and inviting, now that he’d eaten properly. His eyes burned in the remnants of orange twilight shining in through the kitchen window.

“What should I say to you, then?” Gerard asked, “Tell me, Frankie.”

“Tell me there’s nothing to be afraid of.” Frank said, heart fluttering at the nickname.

Gerard took another step closer.

“Well, there’s nothing to be afraid of.” Gerard repeated easily.

“No. Use your mind control.” Frank demanded.

“I think I might’ve told you I wouldn’t use it on you...” Gerard said softly, “I’ve broken enough promises for a lifetime, haven’t I?”

“But I _want you to._ ” Frank insisted, “And you’re not even alive. Come _on._ ”

“What am I supposed to say?” Gerard asked, searching Frank’s eyes, “If you don’t want to forget...”

“Tell me vampires aren’t scary.” Frank said, “Tell me I’m not afraid of them.”

“Fear is a natural, healthy reaction.” Gerard observed, “Why would you want to turn it off?”

“ _Gerard._ ” Frank warned.

“What if I can’t undo it, Frank?” Gerard asked, “You don’t know what you’re asking. I don’t even really know what will happen...”

Frank just glared, crossed his arms, and huffed out a deep sigh.

“What if I need you to run away from me and you…” Gerard hesitated, “ _Don’t?_ ”

“I’m not fucking stupid.” Frank said, “I can _tell_ when you want to eat me. Your eyes go all crazy.”  
Gerard stepped closer, pressing Frank back into the kitchen counter. His irises darkened as he stared into Frank’s eyes. Frank could feel Gerard’s hands on his arms for a moment, and then, just like that, the feeling was gone. There was nothing but Gerard’s eyes. Everything else was numb. Frank could feel Gerard’s hold on him. It made his blood freeze in his veins.

But Gerard didn’t say anything. He searched Frank’s eyes as he held him there.

Gerard looked away, and his hold on Frank faded. It took Frank a moment to get himself back. Gerard’s mouth was at his throat. The vampire pressed a gentle kiss over top of the bandage wrapped around Frank’s neck. He was pulling away before Frank could even speak to protest.

 

“Let me think about it.” Gerard said quietly, “I’m not saying no. I just… need to think about it.”

His hands were still on Frank’s arms. He was pressed into Frank, and furthermore pressing Frank into the counter. As the milliseconds passed, Frank was more and more aware of everywhere they were touching and everywhere they weren’t touching, but probably should be touching.

Their lips met. Frank found himself subdued. The only thing better than brainwashing mind control from Gerard’s lips was the way Gerard’s lips felt against his. Frank couldn’t seem to get used to the way Gerard kissed him like he fucking meant it.

Gerard flinched away.

“Hold that thought.” he said sheepishly.

Frank watched helplessly, stuck somewhere between kind of wanting to choke Gerard out and wanting desperately to be kissed like that again. He was drowning in ‘want.’

Gerard reached for Frank’s coffee on the counter, took a long swig, gargled the hot liquid, and spat it out in the sink.

 _Blood breath._ Frank had completely forgotten, hadn’t even tasted the pig’s blood.

“Okay.” Gerard breathed, wiping his mouth off on the back of his hand.

Gerard’s lips were warm and wet as he kissed Frank again. The warmth felt almost wrong. It crossed wires in Frank’s brain and made him dizzy. He tangled his fingers in the front of Gerard’s t-shirt to pull him closer.

The kitchen didn’t have a fucking skylight. No one could crash through the ceiling and ruin it this time. He had Gerard right where he wanted him. Gerard’s index fingers curled through Frank’s front belt loops. There was a moment where Frank just let himself be kissed. He draped a hand on Gerard’s shoulder. He tried to lean into the kiss, but it hurt to turn his neck too much.

“You could… shower?” Frank verbalized, pulling away enough to speak.

Gerard froze and pulled back, wide-eyed.

“No, I meant-” Frank laughed, “Your lips. They’re _warm._ From the coffee. _”_

Gerard clearly wasn’t following. He looked horrified.

“If you took a bath, or like, got in a hot tub, you’d be warm _all over._ ” Frank explained quickly.

Understanding colored the vampire’s expression.

“Not right now.” Frank amended, he clasped a hand on Gerard’s arm before he could totally pull away, “Not unless you’re taking me with you.”

“You like me better warm.” Gerard mused.

“I like you just fine like this…” Frank promised, reeling Gerard back in, ”It was just a thought for another time.”

“Another time.” Gerard repeated thoughtfully, “As in ‘sometime in the foreseeable future, that’s not right now.’”

“Yes?” Frank said, letting out a breath of a laugh.

“That kinda sounds like... you want me back.” Gerard concluded.

“I didn’t say that at all, actually.” Frank argued, feeling himself blush “All I said was ‘yes.’”

The vampire took another step back and gave Frank a once-over from the floor, up. He gave Frank a small, smug smile.

“ _What?_ ” Frank asked.

“‘That a crucifix in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” Gerard asked, making a reach for the wooden object in the pocket of Frank’s hoodie.

He hissed and dropped it. The wood hit the tiles on the kitchen floor with a loud clatter.

“Why the fuck-?” Gerard asked, clutching his hand to his chest, “And _what_ the fuck? But mostly _why the fuck?_ ”

“We have experiments to do.” Frank said.

“When you said you were comfortable experimenting I thought you meant you wanted me to fuck you in the coffin.” Gerard huffed, “Not… _Not…_ ”

Gerard frowned, letting his sentence trail off.

“What?” Frank scoffed, “Don’t you wanna know if you’re allergic to garlic or not? Cause I need to know if you aren’t. Like, all the good hummus has garlic in it, motherfucker.”

Frank reached into his shopping bag of tricks and pulled out a bulb of garlic. Gerard gave it a hesitant look.

“Come on. Touch it.” Frank requested, holding it out for the vampire.

“I wouldn’t ask you to touch fire with your bare hands.” Gerard said plainly, narrowing his eyes and crossing his arms.

“Do you think it’s going to burn like fire?” Frank asked curiously, “What makes you think that? Can you explain?”

Gerard _glared._

“What? That touching fire analogy doesn’t even make sense. I don’t heal as quickly as you do.” Frank reminded, “Which is something we also have to test, by the way.”

“Don’t you think you’re taking this a little too far?” Gerard asked. He reached his hand out to touch the garlic but left his fingers to hover a few inches away

“Gerard, I still have like, three more tour dates.” Frank said, “What if I run into vampires in New Orleans? Or Austin? I need to know how to protect myself. I need to know what hurts you.”

“Why would there be vampires in New Orleans?” Gerard asked, shaking his head, “Or Texas, for that matter? And why do you think they’d bother you if there were?”

“Why would there be vampires _anywhere?_ ” Frank asked, reaching for his coffee mug and taking a sip, “Why _wouldn’t_ they be in Texas? It’s already like, the shittiest state ever.”

“Fine.” Gerard sighed, letting his fingers rest on the garlic bulb.

 

He ended up swatting it right out of Frank’s hand. It landed on the tiles, across the room.

 

“Wow. _Fuck that._ ” Gerard said, letting out a pained gasp.

“So garlic is a possible weapon...” Frank observed, “No hummus, then. You wanna touch the rosary, too? Or are we pretty sure about that one?”

“You have to play a show in Texas?” Gerard breathed, changing the subject “I’m so sorry.”

“I gotta give the people what they want.” Frank shrugged, “Which sometimes means going to Texas. But James has a lot of friends there. It’ll be fine.”

Gerard’s expression softened.

“I hate that I can’t come with you...” he said, “I mean, I can’t go fucking... _anywhere._ ”

It was clear the negatives of being a vampire were starting to get to Gerard. Frank could sympathize.

“How am I supposed to get backstage?” Gerard asked.  

“The way you always do. And you can still travel.” Frank soothed, “You just have to... plan _really well.”_

“Yeah. I’ll just hitch the coffin to the back of my car like a fucking camper...” Gerard smiled sadly, “Get a set of wheels for it and everything.”  

“You hate camping.” Frank reminded.

“I know.” Gerard said morosely, “Fuck, I need a cigarette.”  

Frank watched him reach for the pack on the counter and stuck a cigarette between his lips. All previous concerns for keeping his blood in his veins and out of Gerard’s mouth evaporated as he followed the vampire out into the dark of the back yard. The threat seemed to be off the table, anyways...

Gerard sighed heavily on the first drag. Frank couldn’t make out his expression in the darkness.

“It used to be a morning cigarette.” Gerard mused, “And now it’s an evening cigarette? I don’t know how I’m supposed to get used to stuff like this…”

Frank didn’t have an easy answer. He let Gerard’s words float off with his cigarette smoke.

The glow of Gerard’s cellphone screen lit up his face.

“Lyn-Z’s gonna burn my fucking house down if I don’t paint something tonight.” Gerard said, sucking on his cigarette, “I hope you don’t mind staying in. You could go out without me if you wanted, of course… uh.”

“I was out for a lot of the day. I feel pretty drained, honestly.” Frank said, “I mean, not literally... Well, sort of literally, I guess. But I can entertain myself.”

“Right.” Gerard bit out, not glancing up from his phone.

“I can’t believe you thought I wanna fuck in the coffin.” Frank said into the darkness.

“Don’t you, though?” Gerard asked, typing out a text.

Frank let out a surprised laugh and nearly choked on the air. He had to turn away from Gerard for a second to catch his breath. He stared into the glow of lights from the houses on the rolling hills in the distance.

It was then that Frank noticed Gerard’s complete lack of presence. The vampire was completely silent, aside from his inhales and exhales. There was no emotional weight to Gerard’s being. If Frank wasn’t looking directly at him, it was almost like being completely alone.

“I was wondering why you didn’t say anything about that.” Gerard’s voice was smug.

“I just… hadn’t thought about it, I guess?” Frank admitted, “I mean honestly… the ‘where’ doesn’t matter to me so much. You know that.”

Gerard sighed.

“Yeah.” he said, “I know.”

~

 

The dressings had started to heal into the wound in Frank’s neck. It took a lot of gritting his teeth and meticulous tugging to get them out. He’d locked the bathroom door, not that it would stop Gerard. He got nervous when the blood started to ooze. And then his heart rate was increasing. He tried to blink away the anxiety, but the fact of the matter was that if Gerard broke the door down and ripped his neck open again, Frank’s heart would just pump the blood out faster.

The wound was truly hideous. The skin around the tear was almost black. He couldn’t decide if it looked infected or not. He wasn’t running a fever. It didn’t look swollen. It was just… raw and angry.

Why wouldn’t vampire bites be black and awful? The internet probably had something to say about this. Frank knew better than to research medical problems. That never ended well.

He just hoped this didn’t mean he’d start turning. As cool as the mind control and potential immortality sounded… It didn’t lend well to his vegetarian lifestyle. And he had a band, and a mom to think about.

Frank was exhausted by the time he’d cleaned the wound and re-wrapped it.

 

Gerard had set up his paints in his bedroom and was starting to pencil onto a blank canvas, humming to himself as he worked. Frank paused in the doorway to watch, but his stomach dragged him to the kitchen pretty immediately. An all-liquid diet was very L.A. of Gerard, but Frank wasn’t about to join him. He needed sustenance.

Frank sort of hated cooking, but it was nice to do something predictable and human. Tending to a vampire obviously didn’t lend to normal human things, but neither did being on tour. Hotel rooms didn’t exactly have full kitchens most of the time.

“Smells good.” Gerard commented, wandering into the kitchen. Frank had forgotten Gerard couldn’t fucking see himself in the mirror. He was lucky the bed-headed look suited him so well.

His hair was all over the fucking place and he’d changed into an oversized white t-shirt splattered with paint from previous painting sessions. Frank remembered Gerard’s paint shirts. He had a lot of them and he was always accidentally making more.

The vampire poured a mug of foggy grey water out into sink, and refilled it under the tap.

“What are you making?” Gerard asked.

“Greens and tofu.” Frank explained, giving the food a quick stir as it simmered, “Think I need some extra iron... Wait, did you say it smells good?”

“Yeah.” Gerard smiled, “It does.”

“Like in an appetizing sort of way?” Frank wondered.

“No more experiments tonight.” Gerard requested, “ _Please._ ”

“And quit distracting me.” Gerard added sarcastically, “I have work to do.”

Frank watched as Gerard opened and closed the fridge.

“Hungry?” Frank asked.

“Not really.” Gerard sighed, “Just kind of want… a snack? The taste of blood’s kinda losing it’s charm. Surprise.”

“We could try freezing it? Blood popsicles.” Frank suggested.

“You’re _disgusting._ ” Gerard said, spinning around to smile hugely at Frank.

He opened the freezer and pulled out an ice cube tray. He cracked the tray and let the ice cubes drop into the sink. Frank watched with sick curiosity as he got the blood out and started making his horrible confection.

“You still get brain freezes.” Frank reminded.

Gerard paused, mid pour and a slosh of dark red splashed onto the white tiles of the counter.

“So just go slow.” Frank offered.

“It’s weird that I still get brain freezes… Right?” Gerard commented, filling the rest of the spaces in the tray and gingerly carrying it to the freezer. Frank opened the freezer door for him.

“And like, it’s weird that my eyeballs are still wet in that eyeball kind of way...” Gerard added, brow furrowed in concern, “I’m dead. Shouldn’t they… not be wet? Can eyeballs be dry?”

“I have no idea.” Frank offered, “Just… try to not think about it?”

Gerard nodded seriously like he hadn’t considered that ‘not thinking about it’ had been an option.

 

Frank sat on the edge of Gerard’s bed and ate, watching intently as the vampire painted. He didn’t ask about the painting. Gerard didn’t seem like he wanted to talk about it anyways. He’d set up his easel facing away from the bed, so Frank couldn’t see the work in progress anyways. Frank was free to stare at the vampire instead, and on occasion, the vampire stared back.

 

After he’d finished eating, Frank found himself curling up on the bed and pulling the sheet over his shoulders. Exhaustion had really caught up with him. The stiffness in his muscles and joints had returned. Moving ached. _Thinking about moving ached._ He was probably due for another round of pain management. It would certainly help him sleep.

“I do have a TV in here...” Gerard said, not taking his eyes off his work, “You can put it on. I don’t mind.”

Gerard must’ve mistaken the exhaustion for boredom.

Lacking the attention span for television, Frank found himself reaching for the remote anyways. He channel surfed for a minute, but the lull of the TV voices had him quickly drifting off. He knew he should re-orient himself on the bed, maybe rest his head on a pillow instead of lying at the foot of the bed, but he couldn’t muster up the energy.

 

His eyes must’ve drooped closed, because when he opened them again, Gerard was sitting on the floor, intently watching whatever movie Frank had left on. He had to roll over to get a better look. The light overhead had been turned off. The easel Gerard had been working at was folded up and pushed into the corner.

One of the pillows from the other end of the bed had been moved under Frank’s head. The wound on his neck had dried. It hurt to twist his head in either direction too much.

“Gee...” Frank mumbled dryly.

Gerard’s head turned to glance back at Frank.

“Will you c’mere.” Frank said hoarsely, “Please.”

Gerard’s movements were so graceful and fluid. The mattress hardly dipped as he sat down beside Frank.

“I know you don’t need to sleep, but…” Frank paused, “Will you just… pretend for a second?”

Understanding colored Gerard’s expression. He reoriented himself, reached for a pillow, and settled onto the bed beside Frank.

They were still turned the wrong direction on the bed, with the majority of the pillows at the other end, against the wall. Frank liked the wrongness of it. He let his eyes flutter closed for a moment.

There was the murmur of the TV. The quiet of Gerard’s sigh as he settled himself.

Frank felt Gerard’s fingers brush his arm and squirmed closer to the vampire. He pressed his face into Gerard’s t-shirt and inhaled.

“You smell like paint.” Frank commented into the fabric.  

“Oh. Sorry.” Gerard said, immediately sitting up.

Frank blinked, stunned by the sudden movement.

“That’s…” Frank paused as Gerard pulled his t-shirt off, “ _Okay._ ”

Gerard tugged on the sheet wrapped around Frank’s shoulders, until he was under it, too. Frank was painfully aware of the fact that they didn’t connect anywhere. Gerard wasn’t touching him.

Before Grant showed up, Gerard had been all over him, begging Frank to take him back. And now there was a hesitancy to Gerard, and Frank didn’t know what to do with that.

On one hand, he longed to be touched, and on the other, they could stand to slow the fuck down. Maybe Mikey had been onto something, suggesting Gerard’s emotions were over-amplified by the change.

Frank had liked it though. It had been nice to feel so wanted.

But now he felt warm, and safe, and ready to go the fuck back to sleep, which was almost as nice as feeling wanted.

 

“Will you do the mind thing?” Frank requested.

“Frank-”

“You don’t have to say anything.” Frank said, “I don’t need anything. I just like how it feels.”

Gerard pursed his lips in thought for a moment, then leaned over Frank, pressing him gently onto his back.

Gerard stared down into his eyes. Frank felt the cold nothingness almost immediately. It was almost familiar this time, though. There was nothing but Gerard’s eyes. Frank couldn’t hear the TV anymore, or the rustle of sheets as Gerard moved. His neck didn’t hurt anymore, either.

“I’ve thought about how I wanted to say this...” Gerard purred.

The sound of his voice nearly echoed in Frank’s skull.

“You’re not afraid of vampires, Frank Iero.” Gerard said quietly, lips twitching against a smile, “Especially when it comes to me, Gerard Way, an existing vampire.”

Gerard hesitated. He glanced down at Frank’s lips for half a second, before darting his gaze back up to Frank’s eyes.

“While I have you like this…” Gerard said, “I have to know... Did the glitter work last night? At the gallery? You seemed into me for a second. Like, genuinely fucking into me. But now I feel like it’s all fucked up. I threatened you this morning. I said I wanted your blood all over the walls. So I’d understand if you changed your mind about me...”

Gerard was rambling. It wasn’t a control thing. He was just holding Frank there like Frank had asked him to.

“Can you even answer me?” Gerard finished.   

“Yes.” Frank’s mouth answered, to his surprise.

“‘Yes’ to… which thing?” Gerard asked, looking confused, “ _Dammit..._ ”  

Frank would’ve rolled his eyes if he’d had the agency.

“Did the glitter work?” Gerard asked again.

“ _Too vague._ ” Frank’s traitorous mouth answered again.

Gerard released the hold. Frank was painfully aware of everywhere they were touching. And aware, painfully aware, of the pain, as it returned to his neck.

“You could’ve just asked like a fucking normal person.” Frank said immediately, “Because I’m certainly capable of answering like a fucking normal person.”

“Sorry.” Gerard said sheepishly.

“You’re not sorry, you’re a dick.” Frank corrected. He slid his arm around Gerard’s lower back to keep him close.

Gerard pressed his face into the crook of Frank’s neck, on the side without the bandages. His lips touched the skin, just above the medical tape wrapped around his neck to hold the bandages in place on the other side.

“Also what the fuck?” Frank giggled, “I don’t get hard everytime I see glitter you fucking freak.”

“Sorry. I didn’t think about what I wanted to ask...” Gerard admitted, “I was kind of just winging it.”

“I could fucking tell.” Frank laughed. It hurt to laugh. The tender skin around the wound on his neck protested against the tightening of his muscles. Fuck.

“I don’t have a glitter fetish.” he added roughly, trying to inhale through the pain, “You know I don’t.”

Gerard pulled back enough to look down at Frank. His expression had softened. He gazed down at Frank so openly. The punk could read the hurt and want in his eyes so plainly.

“It’s not about glitter…” Frank said.  

“What is it about then?” Gerard pressed. He wasn’t going to let it drop. He’d been edging around the topic all night. Since last night, actually.

It fucking hurt to lift his head the few inches it took to connect his lips with Gerard’s, but Gerard kissed back with such gripping certainty, it was mostly worth the trouble.

Frank let his fingertips glide their way up Gerard’s spine, feeling brave. Further, he twisted his fingers in Gerard’s hair, coaxing him closer, as if they could ever be close enough. He’d probably tried a couple hundred times to get close enough.

He was probably still too injured for this to really go anywhere, but Gerard seemed perfectly aware of that. His movements were light and careful. He met Frank’s desperation with calm assuredness. Being close was comforting, familiar. It didn’t involve promises or apologies or anything else Frank was too tired for.

How was Gerard so consistent with giving Frank exactly what he needed? Frank didn’t want to dwell on it too much.

Gerard eased off and let Frank breathe. He placed a few careful kisses along the punk’s collarbone - on his good side, of course.

Frank wanted so much more. If things were different, maybe he’d push Gerard onto his back, get on top, make him promise to pick up where they’d left off the night before.

Words were almost as good as action.

“I thought of a bedtime story…” Frank said, inspired, “You gotta help me with it, though.”

“I’ll... try my best.” Gerard said. His skin was a pale blue by the light of the TV. His eyes reflected the screen, shining brightly.

“Last night, when we were, uh... _in your studio..._ ” Frank said.

Gerard nodded.

“Before we were interrupted... _so fuckin’ rudely._ ” Frank added, “I think you’d been trying to convince me to move to L.A. and then I took my shirt off? The order of events is a little… fuzzy. You can help me paint the picture if you want.”

Gerard bit his lip.

“I just wanted to know, what _would’ve_ happened.” Frank explained, “Had we not been... _interrupted._ ”

“Oh.” Gerard said, “Uh. Well…”

“I think I’d asked you to bite me...” Frank mused, turning his face away from Gerard’s as if the bravery to speak freely was hiding in the corner of the room.

“ _Politely.”_ he added, _“_ I didn’t want you to rip my throat out. I just wanted to see your face when you... _got exactly what you wanted_.”

“ _I can’t, Frankie._ ” Gerard said automatically. He curled up beside Frank. His hands tangled in Frank’s. His thumb worked a slow circle over the back of Frank’s hand.

“It’s not what I’m asking now.” Frank said soothingly, returning his gaze to Gerard, “I won’t ask again, if you want.”

“I wanted to…” Gerard paused, pursing his lips in frustration.

“What?” Frank asked under his breath.

“I, uh...” Gerard faltered, “I wanted to…”

Frank waited him out, holding his breath as the vampire leaned in closer. His cheek brushed Franks as he brought his lips to Frank’s ear. Frank felt a shiver run down his spine.

“You looked so good last night.” Gerard breathed, “You always look good. But last night…”

Frank’s heart fluttered.

“I wanted to fuck you _so good.”_ Gerard purred, “Wanted to give you no choice but to come back to me when your tour’s over.”

“Like I have a choice now...” Frank said breathlessly.    
They were close everywhere. Gerard pressed his forehead against Frank’s.

“Before you go… I have to take you up on that shower.” Gerard murmured.

Frank smiled into the kiss he pressed into Gerard’s lips. 

~

Frank wondered if they could stay in bed forever, kissing and talking, wrapped up in each other. Gerard’s skin wouldn’t bruise, no matter how much Frank sucked on his neck. Frank’s skin bruised beautifully. Gerard made an effort to intersplice the ink on his skin with a string of marks. He claimed he could almost taste the blood pooling under Frank’s skin. 

A sweet tooth was what finally got them out of bed, around 3 AM. Gerard said he thought he had a can of soda in the fridge. And they’d almost forgotten about the blood popsicles.

Gerard took an experimental lick.

“Shoulda put toothpicks in these motherfuckers.” Gerard commented, “How am I supposed to hold this?”

“Don’t forget that blood stains.” Frank reminded, checking the door and spotting a few cans of cola.

 

When he turned around to face Gerard, Gerard was staring up at the ceiling. A droplet of melting blood oozed its way down his pale white arm.

“Gee?” Frank asked.

“There’s someone…” Gerard whispered.

“What?” Frank asked.

“I think there’s someone on the roof.” Gerard shushed. He set the still-melting blood cube on the counter and back away from the spot on the ceiling, eyes darting around at the windows one by one.

Most of the windows were still covered with blackout curtains, concealing the two of them within the house.

“Are you sure?” Frank asked, feeling an icy sensation pull at his heart.

“ _You have to hide._ ” Gerard said, eyes darting to Frank.

“Where?” Frank asked.

Gerard thought for a fraction of a second.

“ _The coffin._ ” Gerard said, resolved.

Before Frank could say another word, Gerard was ushering him into the living room. Frank’s finger caught on the plastic shopping bag on the counter as Gerard shoved him out of the kitchen.

Frank had never been shoved into a coffin before, definitely not by a hot guy. His brain was all kinds of mixed up. Adrenaline and curiosity fought over Gerard’s earlier comments on experimenting.

“Wait, you’re not hiding, too?” Frank hissed as Gerard started to close the lid on him.

“ _Play dead._ ” Gerard shushed, shutting the coffin door.

Vampires could definitely pick up on heartbeats. This was a terrible plan, not that they’d had much time for planning.

For about four things, Frank was entirely grateful:  

  1. His phone was in his pocket. He pulled it out, illuminating the red satin on the lid above him.
  2. He had defense weapons. As he listened intently, he held the shopping bag close. He’d put the crucifix back in the bag with the rosary after he was done with it earlier on. He might’ve even left a second bulb of garlic in there, too.
  3. He still had his soda. He wondered if he could crack the can and drink it laying down. But they’d just gotten the coffin. And Frank would be damned if he was sent on some mission to reupholster the damn thing because he’d gotten soda on the lining.
  4. But most importantly: He wasn’t afraid.



He hadn’t told Gerard he loved him. He’d been working up to that. After the way last night had gone, Frank should’ve found the time to tell him. There had been time all day, and now it was possible there never would be.

Frank closed his phone and slid it back in his pocket. He heard voices. Yelling. Glass broke.

He wrapped the rosary around his wrist. The crucifix was clenched in his fist. The garlic, he stuck in the pocket of his sweatshirt, for backup.

The can of soda stayed behind on the red satin as Frank opened the lid to the coffin, and leapt out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope this ~11k word update made up for some of the waiting i caused. sorry for the cliffhanger, tho


	5. The Second Kill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nsfw

Frank had to squint against the kitchen light. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness of the coffin. They needed a moment to adjust back to the kitchen’s cruel fluorescents.

The two struggling figures before him were both covered in blood. The only question was _who’s_ blood. Could vampires even bleed? The figure that wasn’t Gerard could be human, Frank supposed. That might explain the bleeding.

He couldn’t figure out where the glass had come from, but he was pretty tired of motherfuckers coming in uninvited and breaking glass. They hadn’t even gotten to cleaning up all the glass from Grant’s rude entrance.

 

Frank still had an advantage. The intruder either hadn’t noticed him, or wasn’t able to get to him yet. Whichever it may have been, Frank seized the moment. Brandishing his crucifix, he stepped into the kitchen.

He backed the fucker into the corner.   
The man was unmistakably a vampire. The reaction to the cross was a dead giveaway, but the black eyes and pearly white fangs filled in the blanks.

“Who the fuck are you?” Frank asked.

“I just want to talk.” the man answered, holding up his hands in surrender. He gave Frank a pleading look through a brown curtain of hair covering the upper half of his face.  

“Bullshit.” Frank said, stepping closer with his religious knick knack, “You would’ve knocked on the fucking door if you wanted to talk. At a reasonable fucking hour, also. So I’ll ask again. Who the fuck are you?”

“This is a reasonable hour for some of us.” the guy argued.

“That’s not what I asked.” Frank warned, pressing the crucifix closer.

“I’m looking for Grant.” the guy said, eyes screwing shut in pain.

“He’s dead.” Gerard supplied. When Frank glanced over, he was picking glass out of his arm. Jesus.

“You’ll be dead too if you don’t start answering questions.” Frank said.

“I might’ve offered you a bloodsicle if you hadn’t broken my fucking window, by the way, dipshit.” Gerard muttered.

The vampire tried to inch away from the crucifix, along the wall. He looked like he might start trying to crawl up the fucking wall. Frank sincerely fucking hoped they couldn’t do that. He stepped in closer.

“Who are you?” Frank tried again, patience wearing thin.

“Which one of you fuckers killed him?” the vampire asked, “Looks like he didn’t go down without a fight.”

The intruder’s gaze was fixed on the bandages wrapped around Frank’s neck.

“Hey, he killed me _first._ ” Gerard pointed out, offended.

“He said you were pretty.” the guy supplied, eyeing Gerard, “He wanted to keep you as a pet, you know?”  

“Who are you?” Frank asked again through gritted teeth.

“ _Who the fuck are_ **_you?_ ** ” the intruder asked back, eyes narrowing. His tone was mocking. His lips curled back from his fangs menacingly.

“I don’t address humans directly.” the intruder said, “I don’t talk to my food, freak. Do you?”

Frank pressed the wooden object even closer. The vampire hissed in warning.

“Careful Frank, don’t forget these fuckers bite.” Gerard said, somewhere behind him.

“I’m not fucking scared of you.” Frank said, meaning it with every ounce of his being.

“It’s not me you should be scared of” The intruder supplied, “It’s who sent me that I’d be worried about.”

“Explain.” Frank demanded.

“Grant was… important to us.” the intruder mused, “You two are so _fucked._ ”

The guy made a break for the broken glass door. Gerard dove after him and caught him by the ankle. In the time it took Gerard to pin him, Frank pulled a cutting knife from the knife block on the counter.

“Who’s ‘ _us?’_ ” Frank asked, beyond through with playing games. He swung the knife back and forth to make sure he had the vamp’s attention.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” the intruder mocked, struggling as Gerard worked to keep him pinned.  

Frank glared, tightening his grip on the knife. He pointed it in the guy’s face.

“Last chance.” Frank said.

“ _The O-cult._ ” the guy answered.

“The _what?_ ” Frank asked.

The vampire smirked.

“I’ve got your attention. Good.” he said, eyes blacker than black.

“No. You know what? _No._ ” Frank said, and with that he plunged the knife deep into the vampire’s chest.

Frank stuck the bulb of garlic into the guy’s mouth as he started to disintegrate. The skin on his lips bubbled and blackened.   
Gerard backed away as the thing tried to crawl towards the door, flesh melting all over the linoleum.

The eyes were the first to melt completely. They liquified and oozed down into the eye sockets, melting away from the skull.

Frank was panting, bent over the corpse as it bubbled and melted into black nothingness.

It was beyond human recognition when he felt Gerard’s hand on his shoulder. He let Gerard pull him away from the mess.   
It had all happened so quickly. Frank could admit he was starting to freak out. He’d gotten so upset at the intruder so quickly. He’d had to. He couldn’t have these things breaking into Gerard’s house like this, and let them go free. They had to send a message.

He wasn’t sure where they could even go that was safe. And by safe, he meant, ‘away from all this shit.’ He’d killed them two nights in a row now. Frank 2. Gerard 0. He wouldn’t tell Gerard he was keeping score.

Gerard would be safer if he left the city with Frank. He should be going on the rest of the tour, with Frank. But being as things were, he couldn’t.   


Frank couldn’t speak as Gerard pulled him out of the kitchen. He wasn’t afraid, but he was void in the absence of fear. There were more vampires out there. They might keep coming every night. They knew who Gerard was, and now they probably knew Gerard was rolling with a killer.

“Two nights in a row.” Frank said. They were the only words he could manage.

“At least he didn’t come in through the ceiling while we were makin’ out.” Gerard said, obviously trying to lighten the mood.

Frank tried to laugh, but a shaky breath was all that came out.

Gerard had pulled them into the bathroom. Locking the door behind them felt like a fucking joke, but Frank was glad to have a layer between them and the rest of the world. His clothes were soaked with the dark gore. He was still shaking. Gerard started the shower, and then he was up in Frank’s space, peeling his clothes off with careful movements.

Frank shivered as the room started to fill with steam. The sticky smell of death mixed with the humidity. Frank swallowed a wave of nausea.

“I think I owe you for the rest of my life.” Gerard said, pressing a kiss to Frank’s forehead.

“For what?” Frank asked, letting his eyes fall closed.

“For that.” Gerard said.

“I didn’t do it for you.” Frank said, “That one was for Mikey.”

 

He let Gerard lead him into the shower. The water was too hot, and then too cold. Gerard couldn’t tell the temperature at all. The shock of the cool water helped Frank come to a little. Reality trickled in. Gerard’s hands were all over him, wiping the gore off of his arms, his chest, his legs.   
The bandages around Frank’s neck were completely soaked. He suspected the wound was softening. It would start oozing soon. He hoped Gerard wasn’t hungry.

When Frank searched Gerard’s face, his fangs were out, but his eyes were still light and focused.   
He couldn’t hold Gerard’s gaze. He kept his eyes trained on the bottom of the tub, watching the gore circle the drain. There was _a lot_ of it - some from the dead vamp, the rest from Gerard, Frank presumed.

 

“We can’t stay here.” Gerard said resolutely.

“ _You_ can’t stay here.” Frank agreed, not adding that the safest place for Gerard would be wherever Death Spells was headed next.   
“Lyn-Z has keys.” Gerard mused, “How do I stop her from coming here?”

“Tell her not to.” Frank said simply.

Gerard shook his head. They both knew it wasn’t like that.   


“I might need to borrow some clothes.” Frank added, “I’m not trying to stick around here and do laundry. And I don’t think the stains are gonna come out anyways. Fucking sucks. I liked those jeans.”

Gerard wrapped his arms around Frank’s shoulders and reeled him in. His mouth was dangerously close to the wound on Frank’s neck. A shudder claimed his shoulders.

Gerard’s fingers worked at the soaked medical tape. Frank was too out of it to panic.

“Let me…” Gerard trailed off, peeling the bandages away.   


The wound burned as the open air hit. Frank twitched as he felt Gerard’s soft lips at the edge of the tear in the skin, barely touching. He braced himself for the rip of teeth. His whole body tensed up at the impending danger.   
Frank hadn’t allowed himself to process the fact that he’d killed. It didn’t matter if it was “kill or be killed.” He’d still fucking done it. But in that moment, it occurred to him that Gerard had just watched. Gerard had let him. And this was after Gerard had woken up dead. Frank didn’t need to be a psychologist to put it all together.

He couldn’t help but think that it wouldn’t be like this if it had happened to James, or Lyn-Z, or even Mikey. It had happened like this because _Frank and Gerard were like this._ They were worse when they were together. They were bad for each other. Always had been.   
  
If Gerard was going to kill him now there’d be nothing Frank could do about it. He closed his eyes, and let the feeling of the too-cool water mix with the empty lack of fear.

“There’s no way that tastes good.” Frank commented, feeling Gerard’s tongue slip over the over-sensitive flesh. The last time he’d looked at it in the mirror it had been fucking black. And it still fucking hurt, as careful as Gerard was being.

“Try pigs’ blood.” Gerard said roughly, dragging his tongue over the length of torn flesh. The wave of pain was almost welcomed, as excruciating as it was. It dragged Frank into reality. He was still waiting for the pierce of fangs, agonizing in the anticipation the longer Gerard held off.

The vampire pulled back with eyes black and empty, but Frank still wasn’t afraid. He might fucking puke, but he wasn’t afraid. Gerard was still in there somewhere, underneath the monster. Frank could see that now. He’d just have to trust in that.

“I’m gonna take you to Mikey’s place.” Gerard said, voice still wobbly and desperate. He wiped his mouth off on the back of his hand.

“What about the sun?” Frank asked.

“We’ll make it work.” Gerard promised, “Sunrise won’t matter if we’re dead. Come on. I don’t want to stick around to find out if that guy had friends.”

 

Frank let Gerard drag him from room to room, gathering the things he thought he might need. The paint was still drying on the canvas tucked under his arm. He threw some random clothes into a bag, and slung Frank’s backpack over his shoulder.

They hashed out a plan to keep Lyn-Z from coming around. It was decided they’d need to clean all the blood and change the locks.

 

Frank hesitated before taking the first step out the front door.

“There’s no one out there, Frankie.” Gerard promised, “I would feel them.”

He was still sort of numb and spaced out as Gerard was ushering him into the passenger seat. He shoved their things in the back seat and flew around to the driver’s side.

 

A windshield glistened at the base of the driveway. An empty car, driven right over Gerard’s mailbox. Frank thought idly of Dewees’ comment about Gerard’s back yard.

 

_Hollywood Forever part two._

  
Away they sped, into the night.

~

 

Mikey shared a two-bedroom with his fiancee in an apartment building in Koreatown, just West of the city. The streets were well-lit, and there were passersby, even in the middle of the night.

 

Gerard parked his car on the street and led Frank up to Mikey’s unit. His kept his key to Mikey’s place on the same set that he kept his car keys.

“You all have keys to each other’s places?” Frank commented.

“For emergencies.” Gerard said.

“What kind of emergencies?” Frank scoffed.

“Well… These kinds, I guess?” Gerard mused.

“Maybe I should give James a key to my place...” Frank verbalized.

He reached a hand up to the wound on his neck, still over-sensitive to the open air. It felt strange and rough, and smoothed over somehow. There was no jagged scabbing, no sticky drying blood. The post-killing shower must’ve washed it all away. Still, it seemed too soon. Frank never healed quickly.

 

There was something comforting about Mikey’s place in comparison to Gerard’s. For one, no one could drop in through the fucking ceiling. Probably. There was another apartment above them, like a fucking shield.   
Gerard left the lights off as he lead Frank into the apartment and locked the door behind them. Frank settled in on the couch and let Gerard turn the TV on. He worried his fingers over the healing flesh on his neck. He knew he probably shouldn’t touch it, but he couldn’t stop himself, perplexed by the dullness of the wound.  

Gerard wandered over to the window and slid the curtain back enough to look out. After a few moments of staring, he shut it tightly again.

Gerard perched on the arm of the couch and sighed.

“You want something to drink?” Gerard asked, “Mikey usually has beer...”

“I’m ok.” Frank said, not entirely sure he could let his guard down like that at this point. Not when vamps were literally bursting through ceilings and windows.

Gerard walked over to the front window again and slid the curtains open enough to peek outside again.

Seemingly satisfied with whatever he’d been looking for he returned to his spot next to Frank on the arm of the couch. His back-and-forth pacing was making Frank _anxious._ The punk was about to ask Gerard to take away anxiety, too. Gerard could probably do that.

Instead Frank grabbed Gerard by the front of his t-shirt and reeled him.

“Can you maybe… stop doing that?” Frank requested.

“I just want to make sure we weren’t followed.” Gerard breathed, “I can’t have them coming for my brother.”

“No cars were following us.” Frank offered gently, “I was watching the mirrors the whole time.”   
“I don’t think it’s cars I’m worried about.” Gerard said.   
Frank bit his lip and nodded.

“I can’t have them coming for you, either.” Gerard added, touching Frank’s face, “The worst they can do is kill us. And I’m already dead, but you’re _not._ ”

“I’m not so sure death is the worst-”

Frank was abruptly cut off. Gerard’s lips found his easily in the dark. The gentle intrusion of fangs against his lower lip was all Frank could feel. He let himself feel it, let Gerard kiss him, smooth and desperate. The vampire was on edge, and only in darkness could he let it bleed out.

Gerard was _scared._ Frank wanted Gerard to be kissing him like this because he wanted to, not because he was scared. But things being as they were, Frank would take what he could get. He had Gerard’s undivided attention.

Frank ran his fingers along Gerard’s jawline, gradually working them into Gerard’s hair. Gerard slid his tongue over Frank’s lower lip, and pressed in closer. He lowered Frank back onto the couch.

“I forgot to pack bandages.” Gerard said suddenly, still pressing his way into Frank’s space.

Frank let out a breath of a laugh, refusing to let Gerard’s weirdness kill the mood.

“I don’t think I need them.” Frank said, sliding his fingers under the back of Gerard’s t-shirt and running his fingers over the smooth skin of his lower back.

“How…” Gerard trailed off thoughtfully. His attention was quickly diverting to Frank’s neck.

Frank sighed.

“Wait.” Gerard said, “Let me look.”

“Can’t you see in the dark?” Frank snorted.

“Well yeah, but, come on.” Gerard uttered.

 

Frank rolled his eyes in the dark, letting Gerard pull him back up and off the couch. Gerard pulled Frank into a small kitchen and flicked on the lights. Gerard’s fingers were already at Frank’s neck, pushing his head to one side to carefully inspect.

“What the fuck?” Gerard breathed.

“What?” Frank asked, struggling to glare at Gerard with his head tilted to the side, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’.” Gerard said, voice full of wonder,  “It’s… You’re... It’s healed? I think?”

“W _hat?_ ” Frank asked again.

Gerard’s fingers carefully grazed the tender skin. Frank shuddered.

“One hell of a scar.” Gerard commented.

Frank pushed away his wandering fingers and eyed Gerard. The points of the vampire's fangs hung just below his lip as he stared back.  

Frank’s eyes flitted to the refrigerator, covered in pictures of Mikey’s pretty fiancee and then back to Gerard, trying to process.

“Maybe…” Frank said, “When you were sucking on it…”

Understanding colored Gerard’s expression.

“Thanks for that then.” Frank added, “I think?”

“My pleasure.” Gerard said shyly, “Anyways...”

Gerard’s eyes darkened as he fixed his gaze on Frank’s more intensely.

The rest of the world went silent and dropped away. Frank was locked in the vampire’s grasp, numbly unable to breathe or think.   
“Frank, I need you to listen to me.” Gerard said.

Frank felt his mouth close into a firm line.

“You did what you had to.” Gerard said, “Back there. You had no other choice but to kill him.”

“I had no choice.” Frank’s mouth agreed vacantly.

“You won’t feel an iota of remorse.” Gerard instructed, “I forbid you from feeling anything other than right in doing what you did.”

“It was the right thing to do.” Frank’s mouth agreed.

“You saved me. That’s all.” Gerard said. He released Frank from his grip. The world didn't rush back with the same speed at which it had fallen away. Frank had to work to unstick himself from the vampire's uncanny mind control. 

“You didn’t have to do that.” Frank said, breathlessly.

Gerard didn’t argue. He was in Frank’s space, kissing the hell out of him and pressing him up against the counter. Frank let himself be kissed, let himself feel Gerard’s fangs at his lips.

Gerard’s hands slid up the back of Frank’s borrowed t-shirt. He was wearing Gerard’s clothes, wrapped up in Gerard’s arms. In Gerard's brother's apartment. With Gerard’s fingertips pressed into his back, dragging across his skin.

Frank let himself push back off of the counter. He wrapped his arms around Gerard’s neck and pressed in closer. Gerard’s hand slid down to grab his ass through his borrowed (admittedly a little too-baggy) jeans. Gerard backed them up so he could reach the light-switch to flick it back off.

Frank only kissed him harder in the dark, and Gerard seemed equally as eager.   
  
“I brought condoms.” Gerard said quietly, breath feather-light against Frank’s lips, “Not sure if we even need them?”

“You packed-” Frank said abortively with a surprised laugh, “Gee, we could’ve _died_ staying there and you went for…”

“If we’re gonna die, I gotta fuck you one last time.” Gerard said roughly.

Frank shut the fuck up before Gerard could get the chance to change his mind. He pressed his lips to the corner of Gerard’s mouth, just missing it in the darkness. He smiled as Gerard corrected the motion, lining their lips up smoothly. He tangled his fingers in Gerard’s hair. Gerard’s hands were on his hips, urging him closer, as if it was possible to be any closer.

“Come on.” Gerard urged in between kisses.

They broke apart, only so Gerard could check the fucking front window again as he led Frank into the other room. Frank didn’t miss the swoop as Gerard went for his messenger bag. His whole body was buzzing with curiosity as he followed Gerard down the small, pitch black hallway.  

A door creaked loudly as Gerard pushed it open. His lips were on Frank’s again. He walked Frank backwards in the darkness. The messenger back landed with a thud at the foot of the bed.

It was too quiet, with nothing but the distant city sounds and their lips connecting over and over as they tried desperately to get enough of each other. If they weren't in hiding, and on high alert, Frank would want Gerard to put some music on, like he always used to. 

Gerard eased Frank down onto the bed, sliding fluidly over top of him.

His fangs bit gently into Frank’s lip as they kissed heatedly - not drawing blood yet, but begging to at any moment. Gerard pinned Frank to the bed with his hips. Frank’s breath caught as he held back a groan.

“I wanna try something.” Gerard breathed, “Do you trust me?”

“Um...” was all Frank could muster.

Gerard slid Frank’s t-shirt up as high as it would go, with Frank on his back the way he was. The vampire trailed kisses down Frank’s chest, and down his belly, palming at his cock through his jeans, not wasting any time. Frank struggled to keep from pressing up into Gerard’s hand.

The too-large jeans slid down over Frank’s hips easily. Gerard didn’t need to undo the button and fly, though he undid them anyway. He pulled the waistband of Frank’s boxers down, just enough.

Frank groaned as Gerard got a hand around his dick, and started jacking him off slowly.

“I can’t make the fangs go away when I’m turned on…” Gerard explained, “But…”

Gerard bowed his head and licked a stripe up the underside of Frank’s cock. Frank bit his lip to hold back the surprised moan begging to escape his lips.

Gerard swirled his tongue around the tip of Frank’s cock, making him forget entirely that he was trying to keep this quiet. The vampire was a solid weight on Frank’s legs, gently exploring with his tongue. Frank couldn’t see Gerard’s face in the darkness, so he traced Gerard's temples with his thumbs while Gerard's head bobbed gently.

“You taste so good.” Gerard said lowly, “ _Fuck, Frankie._ ”

A fire was burning under Frank’s skin. Gerard’s tongue wasn’t enough, and entirely too much at the same time. He had a hand wrapped around the base of Frank’s dick, supplementing the torturously slow movements he was making with his tongue.

Frank brought a hand up to the back of Gerard’s head, tangling his fingers in the black mess of hair he couldn’t make out in the darkness. He let himself feel Gerard’s motions as the vampire tried to re-learn how to give head with the addition of fangs. It was torture and bliss at the same time.

“Gee, I want…” Frank trailed off, unable to articulate everything he needed.

Gerard gave Frank’s cock a few more swirls of his tongue before pulling himself back up to Frank’s mouth.

They fumbled to undress. Frank slid his borrowed jeans down to his knees, while Gerard worked at unbuttoning the pair he was wearing.

Gerard moved away, tilting over the edge of the bed to reach into his bag. Frank twisted onto his front side, giving Gerard access to his ass. When Gerard was back, his hard-on grazed Frank’s ass cheek as he pressed into Frank’s side.

“Take your shirt off, Frankie, I wanna _see you._ ” Gerard requested, popping the cap on the lube. Frank obeyed, pulling his t-shirt off the rest of the way. The air in the room was cool against his backside. He felt Gerard’s t-shirt against his shoulder. Frank tried to work his jeans further down his knees. Gerard gave them a firm tug down to Frank’s ankles.

Gerard slid his dick against Frank’s ass cheek and groaned at the friction. He massaged his lubed fingertips along the cleft where Frank’s ass met the back of his thigh. His fingers traveled up and center, making Frank gasp at the gentle slide of the lube on his sensitive skin. His dick throbbed against the bedspread, aching for friction.

Gerard curled a finger into Frank’s ass. Just one, and then the stretch of two - gentle and calculated, in and out, massaging him open.

Gerard’s dick throbbed against Frank’s hip as he eased Frank open.

“ _Fuck me._ ” Frank begged breathlessly.

Gerard eased his fingers back out and fumbled to slide on a condom. Frank bit his lip, feeling the absence of Gerard’s fingers and shifting his weight on the mattress. The springs shifted underneath them.

Gerard lubed himself up. Frank’s eyes had adjusted enough to recognize the motions as Gerard gave himself a few strokes to spread the lube around. His hips and thighs were dim, pale shapes in the darkness.

Gerard slid in between Frank’s thighs and lined himself up. Frank’s entire body tensed up at the feeling of the tip of his dick against his ass. Frank focused on relaxing as Gerard eased himself in.

“Shit.” Frank hissed, adjusting as Gerard bottomed out, hips pressed firmly against Frank’s ass. Gerard’s hips dragged back as he shifted his weight. He pushed back in, stealing the breath from Frank’s lungs.

“Ah.” Frank gasped, feeling out the pace Gerard was setting.

“Fuck Frankie.” Gerard breathed, thrusts smoothing out.

Gerard snaked his hand around Frank’s hip and squeezed his cock, making him groan into the pillows. 

“That’s it.” Gerard whispered into Frank’s hair. He dipped down to press kisses along the top of Frank’s spine.

“Fuck.” Frank breathed, bucking his hips into Gerard’s hand and back onto his dick, curling his spine back to give Gerard room to jack him off.

“Never thought I’d have you like this again.” Gerard confessed, breathing erratically as he fucked into Frank.

“Your heart’s beating so fast.” Gerard whispered, “Wow.”

Frank’s orgasm hit him unexpectedly. He was coming hard and fast out of nowhere, without the usual build up. Gerard fucked him through it until Frank was spent. His fingers smeared cum across Frank’s hip, warm and sticky.

Gerard was close behind, pressing Frank into the lines of cum on the bedspread as his own orgasm hit. He thrusted weakly into Frank as he rode it out, dick huge and hard and throbbing inside of Frank.

Frank was emptied out and breathless by the time Gerard pulled out and dropped onto the bed next to him.

“ _Fuck, that was good._ ” Gerard panted, “They can kill me now. I don’t give a fuck.”

“Don’t say that.” Frank breathed, trying to find a position where he wouldn’t have to lay in the quickly cooling mess, “If they kill us we can’t do that again.”

“I wanna do that again.” Gerard agreed, “Fuck.”

“Fuck, indeed.” Frank echoed, resting bonelessly on the pillows. He kicked his borrowed jeans the rest of the way off, and curled himself around Gerard, who was, now that Frank could inspect, still most of the way dressed.

“Your tattoos are so beautiful.” Gerard said, running his fingertips up Frank’s arm.

Frank snorted, thinking of the chainsaw on his upper arm. There were a lot of words he’d use to describe chainsaws. ‘Beautiful’ wasn’t one of them.

 

They were both quiet then. It took Frank a moment to realize they were both listening for signs of unwanted visitors.

Gerard trailed his fingertips over Frank’s bare skin, occasionally tracing the outlines of the tattoos he could see just fine in the dark. Night-vision seemed great.

“I’m still so in love with you.” Gerard said quietly, “It’s so fucked up.”

Frank held his breath, paralyzed by those words. He was unable to move or think or do anything. He knew Gerard could read his expression in the dark, so he tried to keep his face as neutral as possible.

“I know you don’t want to hear it...” Gerard added, “But, _fuck, Frank._ ”

“I know.” Frank said, even though he didn’t.

“We were supposed to have an apartment in the city...” Gerard recalled, “A place for us in between your tours... I probably would’ve turned it into a studio when you were away… It would’ve probably been a fucking mess. But I probably would’ve half-ass cleaned it before you came home...”

It hurt so much to think Frank had walked away from all this. He closed his eyes and tried to school his frown back into a neutral line.  

“What’s between California and Jersey?” Frank wondered aloud.

“A lot of shit.” Gerard said.

“Well, maybe you can meet me in the middle…” Frank said, and closed his eyes like sleep was possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don’t @ me but it kind of haunts me that vampires have physical 'cum' in this verse. it was too weird to write about sexual beings that don't cum. i tried. but also like how can a dead person, like, ....... ykno?


End file.
